Asunder - Cari'ssi'mi 8
by Joking611
Summary: Liara suddenly finds herself in a galaxy where the reapers are coming, but Shepard is no longer by her side.
1. Condition

**Summary:**

The surviving crew of the Normandy have been rescued, but Liara has yet to recover from experiencing Shepard's death

 **Notes:**

Welcome to the eighth story in Cari'ssi'mi.

If you've made it this far, you're certifiable!

* * *

There was light in the distance.

Liara had become indifferent to that light, despite the reaction it seemed to draw from her. She'd seen it before. Several times.

At first, the light had been hope. She'd believed it to be an end to this horrible loneliness, this longing, this hole she felt torn in her very being. So she'd chased the light, followed it. She'd moved through the horrible nothingness she found herself in as best she could, as she tried to reach it. Sometimes she'd gotten close enough that it was larger, almost a shape, possibly a figure. Each time however, it had left her behind even as she screamed at it. In those times she'd become fury incarnate as the nothingness dragged her back within itself.

*Shepard!*

Still the light returned, the recurrences begun so long ago. Months? Years? Liara had no idea. Time no longer had meaning to her. She knew she should be concerned about that, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

She would still rage against the light, however.

Especially now that the light had become torture, torment. The light was the only thing that Liara could sense, other than herself, and it refused to come close enough for contact. It couldn't be Shepard, Liara knew. Shepard would never abuse her so. The light existed only to tease her, to mock her efforts to break through, to make contact. No matter how hard she drove herself, the light could move just a little faster, could shift itself just a little further, until she felt herself being drawn back. Probably for the best she considered, as she would destroy it if she could.

She was almost convinced that it was was testing her somehow. When she was lucid, anyway. This was not one of those moments.

Again, she hurled herself towards the light, shrieking her fury.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Dr. Karin Chakwas looked up when the nurse entered.

She carried her exhaustion well as she straightened up from checking her patient's vitals. Liara's condition was unchanged, although Chakwas would be hard pressed to define what that condition was.

The last three days had been among the most devastating of Karin's Alliance career, even without the sleep depravation. She'd lost twenty one of her shipmates in the last seventy two hours. Twenty one patients. Twenty one friends, colleagues, and in some cases, loved ones. Twenty one names that she'd never forget. Her oath was to help others, and she hadn't been able to do a damn thing to save any of them.

But there would _not_ be twenty two.

"Doctor?"

Chakwas suddenly realized she hadn't yet addressed the nurse nervously waiting in front of her. "Lieutenant?"

"They're arrived." No further detail was necessary, as there was no question as to who "they" were.

"Of course they have," she muttered. About damn time. She acknowledged the uneasy nurse with a nod, and the young woman hurried away at the dismissal. Asari matriarchs had a reputation. Some of it was earned of course, but Chakwas also knew that they weren't each the force of nature that other species might make them out to be.

Although it was a fact that some of them were.

She took a steadying breath as she glanced up at the chronometer over the door. For now, she was grateful to be putting it to use for something other than the purpose for which it had been placed, calling a time of death. Oh nine hundred. The asari had arrived exactly on time. No surprise there.

She allowed herself a small smile at that, her first in days. It was to be expected that a matriarch would dictate a precise timetable, and that her staff and acolytes, whoever they might be, would follow such scheduling rigorously. Karin glanced down at the blue form on the bed beside her and her smile widened as she placed her hand on her friend's shoulder. All species had stereotypes, but Liara was unique. Chakwas might never have known how timely asari could be if her experience with the race had been limited solely to her time with Liara.

Doctor T'Soni was a scientist's scientist. The maiden was diligent and exacting when it came to her research, her organization, and the management of her data. However, those traits didn't carry over to all aspects of the maiden's life. Even early on Liara had demonstrated an tendency to completely lose track of both time and her surroundings. She had improved somewhat under the military regimen imposed by her stay on the Normandy, but she was regularly the last to arrive to briefings, to PT, and often had to even be reminded to eat, unless it was Shepard doing the cooking.

Somehow Liara managed to never miss an opportunity to dine with Shepard.

Karin's face fell as the thought reminded her of the commander. Shepard's death was a tragic loss, a personal loss, and one that she hadn't yet allowed herself to feel. Those emotions would have to stay buried until she no longer had a patient depending on her. She already had a plan for when that time came. The plan involved her cabin, a bottle of brandy, and Lieutenants Alenko and Adams. Hers was a grief that fellow soldiers would understand. She craved the nonjudgmental support they would provide her, no matter how her grief might manifest itself.

Thank goodness for Liara. For now Karin's focus on her patient was all that allowed her to contain her grief to the far corners of her mind.

She looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. While she would normally take comfort from the familiar looking environment, now it was a strain on her already vulnerable mental state. The doctor had not left the Alliance medical center since her rescue, but even from Liara's room she could sense that the atmosphere of the entire station had changed. It was like a pall had fallen over all of Arcturus. The medical staff was subdued, none suggesting that she rest or leave her patient. Officers whispered in the corridors. Alliance personnel would glance through the open hatch, then hurry away without engaging her in conversation.

Hackett had visited that morning. Even he had demonstrated signs of the dour mood that had fallen over the station. Already not known for being overly conversational, the admiral had offered little after inquiring about Liara's condition. Chakwas' answer to his question about Liara's odds of survival had only elicited a silent nod from the man. He'd remained for a while, eyes never leaving the bed, before finally leaving with an order that he be informed of any change in the maiden's condition.

He hadn't mentioned the commander at all.

Unfortunately the odds that Chakwas had provided the admiral were based on little more than a gut feeling. She had no idea what was wrong with the young asari.

It wasn't that Karin hadn't been prepared for the eventuality of one of Shepard's team being critically injured. Her pride demanded she be able to care for any of her shipmates, regardless of species. Accordingly, as the commander's squad had become increasingly xenocentric, she'd immersed herself in the medical texts of Citadel races. Her knowledge gained on treating asari in particular was probably the most extensive of all the nonhuman species on the Normandy. Even without her vested interest, having a friendly asari in the next room had certainly helped her further her education. It wasn't that Liara seemed to be injured more often than her fellow squadmates, although she did, but Liara was her friend. The maiden held a special place in Chakwas' heart.

As well as in Shepard's.

But this, this condition, was outside both her experience, and her education. Chakwas had absolutely nothing to go on. Liara's vital signs were well within asari norms. The maiden gave no indication of anything being wrong with her at all, other than that any time she was close to consciousness she tried to obliterate the room she was in.

When the extranet and available medical texts were of no use, Chakwas had turned instead to her colleagues across Citadel space, asari and otherwise. No human or turian doctor who responded had been able to shed any light on Liara's condition. In fact, none could even confirm having observed anything like the symptoms that Chakwas had described. The only tentatively suggested triggers had been a head injury, something easily scanned for, or the collapse of Liara's eezonomic system, which would have been immediately life threatening. With both of those potential maladies discounted, no one had yet been able to suggest likely causes for Liara's condition.

None of her asari colleagues had responded at all. That concerned Chakwas more than anything else, particularly when she worried about what it might mean. Surely someone would tell her if Liara's life was in danger? Unless there was no hope? The asari were generally open with sharing information… until they weren't. Karin had hit a few of those walls in her career, and knew that penetrating them could be difficult at best.

Perhaps she should have discretely mentioned that her patient was Benezia's daughter. Doctor patient confidentiality was a sacred trust, but one Karin would throw out the window if it meant saving her friend's life.

Just when she's managed to rationalize a goodly amount of annoyance with the entire asari race, the door to Liara's room opened.

Karin could peripherally make out a pair of marines as they assumed positions on either side of the doorway. 'Escort', she decided, not truly guards. It wasn't like the Alliance had much to fear from Liara's family. There was also a harried looking lieutenant in the hallway. He was holding a handful of security badges that he had obviously not been able to get the asari he accompanied to wear.

He remained in the hall along with some other asari. Chakwas' ability to gauge the size of the party was impeded by the pair of matriarchs who entered the room, blocking her view. One of their companions closed the door behind them.

"Practitioner." Alaya was the first to speak.

"Matriarch Alaya," Chakwas responded with a nod. She decided that this was definitely a case where discretion was the better part of valor.

Alaya nodded in return, acknowledging Chakwas' recognition. "May we…" she indicated Liara's still form without additional pleasantries.

"Of course." Chakwas activated her omni-tool and stepped back to position herself at Liara's shoulder. She was shocked to recognize Sha'ira as Alaya's companion. The consort gave her a glance that might have been intended to comfort as she took position on the other side of Liara's bed, tenderly taking the young scientist's hand in her own.

Sha'ira looked back to Alaya, and received a curt nod from the other matriarch. Chakwas watched as the consort returned her attention to the maiden, her eyes snapping black as she entered a meld.

She stood motionless for several breaths. Karin grew increasingly nervous, but neither Sha'ira nor Liara demonstrated any sign of stress or discomfort.

After a period that was probably less than a minute, but felt far longer to the human, Sha'ira eyes resumed their normal hue and she turned back to address Alaya.

"It is as Denai suspected. You were correct to request that I come."

"Unfortunate, but not exactly surprising," muttered Alaya. She returned her attention to Dr. Chakwas. "You may go, Practitioner."

Karin spared a glance from her omni-tool, which had registered no change in Liara's condition during Sha'ira's meld with the maiden. "No." She winced slightly as she realized exhaustion might have made her slightly less than entirely polite in the tone of her reply.

Alaya seemed nonplussed at the human's response. The tall asari took a deep breath before reciting; "I am Matriarch Alaya, seneschal of House T'Soni. I am responsible for the wellbeing of the Maiden Liara, and we are here to take her home."

First volleys fired, Karen calmly met Alaya's gaze. "And I'm Dr. Karin Chakwas, Matriarch. Liara is my patient, and more than that, she's my friend. She's not leaving this room until I'm convinced that it creates no risk to her health."

"The asari embassy…" Alaya began.

"Has no authority here," finished Chakwas.

"You would hold our citizen against the will of her family? You would risk an interspecies incident?"

Chakwas' anger was no longer beneath the surface. "The woman Liara considered family was spaced in an unprovoked attack. You might share Liara's name, but Shepard held her heart." She waited for one of the two to reply, and when no response was forthcoming, she continued. "Look, I haven't slept for three days, but Liara isn't going anywhere until I know what's wrong with her, and that she's going to be all right."

Alaya indicated the door behind her. "I have physicians from Thessia with me. You need not concern yourself with Liara's welfare."

"Not good enough. Liara's welfare is my only concern."

"I am sworn to House T'Soni. You can trust that I will see to Liara's care. She is our heir. Nothing is more important to the household than her health."

"The only thing I trust, Matriarch, is that Liara isn't going anywhere until…" she paused as Sha'ira moved from Liara's side to join Alaya, placing a hand on the other matriarch's arm.

"Tell her." Sha'ira's words were subdued, but firm.

"No. This is not something to be shared with outsiders." Alaya turned to the matriarch at her elbow, fear showing in her eyes. "Are we too late?"

Sha'ira made a soothing noise. "No, all is well. We are not too late, although we should begin soon." She met Chakwas' angry stare. "And the doctor is not an outsider, are you?"

"Liara is my friend," the doctor reiterated.

"She is more than that, I think." Sha'ira's tone hardened. "You will not share what you learn this day."

"I can't promise that. If I need this information to care for my…"

"Enough!" Sha'ira's shout was as surprising as it was forceful. "I will grant you this. Your love for Liara is obvious. You would see her well," Sha'ira glanced at Alaya, "Or as well as she can be." Her attention returned to the human. "But you will not share this. I will have your word, or we will depart with Liara. It pleases me that Liara has people in her life that would come to her defense when she is unable to defend herself, and this discourse has added a pleasant diversion to a somewhat somber moment. Now is when you must make a decision. We both know that the Alliance will not hold Liara against a formal request from the asari government."

Chakwas deflated somewhat at that. "Fine. I won't share whatever it is that you tell me."

Sha'ira stood silently for a time, considering the browbeaten human.

"What?" Karin finally asked.

"I believe you," replied Sha'ira replied as she nodded in affirmation. When Chakwas cocked her head in confusion, Sha'ira continued. "A meld will not be necessary to confirm the truth of your promise." Before Chakwas had time to look offended, Sha'ira turned again to Alaya. "Tell her."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Alaya was still for so long that Chakwas thought the explanation might never come.

Eventually the matriarch stepped forward from the position she'd occupied since entering the room, slowly making her way to the space Sha'ira had vacated at Liara's side.

Matriarchs might be slow to decide, slow to act, and be known to take the long view, but the simple act of watching Alaya cross the room reinforced to Karin that matriarchs were not all of a kind.

While Sha'ira's movements had been equally precise, the consort radiated almost nothing of herself in her presence. The asari radiated calm and peacefulness. Chakwas found herself feeling slightly better just being in her company, and was surprised to see the smallest of smiles cross Sha'ira's face as she entertained the thought.

While Sha'ira might be all about what she could offer, Alaya's focus was on portraying what she was. She moved forward in the same sliding walk that the galaxy had come to know as the "matriarch glide". Had one not known that asari were bipedal, they could be forgiven the assumption that Alaya's floor length dress concealed wheels instead of feet. Her face was expressionless. Neither friend nor foe would find Alaya's opinions or beliefs on display to be assisted or used against her.

Although she had only seen vids, Chakwas was reminded of Matriarch Benezia. She wondered if the imitation was deliberate.

Alaya stood over Liara for a moment, finally taking her hand as Sha'ira had done before turning to the human doctor.

"What is her condition?"

It was all Chakwas could do not to roll her eyes and shout. She reminded herself that there was nothing she could do if Alaya was going to drag this out. She couldn't let her frustration jeopardize Liara's care.

"Given that I don't know what's wrong with her, I can't say for certain. Her vitals are strong. She's hydrated and nourished. Liquid eezo was a little hard to come by, but I couldn't just give her her regular supplements, could I?" She met Alaya's eyes to remind the matriarch of what she was waiting for. "It isn't like I could just wake her up and ask her to take her pills."

Alaya's tone took on an edge. "You've surpressed her biotics?"

"Of course not. Humans might be late to the party but I do know better than putting a sedated patient on biotic suppression. Eezo's just too useful, the body finds all kinds of ways to supplement biological functions with it." When Alaya nodded in agreement, Chakwas continued. "Her biotic outbursts were a symptom, but I wasn't going to risk her going into respiratory arrest unless I knew what they were a symptom of. Keeping her sedated seemed like the best path to follow until you arrived." She met Alaya's gaze challengingly.

"You've done the right thing, even in your ignorance," she raised her hand. "I mean no disrespect. What you face is not common even in the Republics. It comes from an earlier time. A time when we were a different people, and when we knew less about ourselves than you know about us now."

"Liara is not ill, in the sense that she suffers from no disease," continued Alaya. "She has undergone _eherihohire'na_. It is not something that happened to her, it is something that she has done to herself."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Chakwas waited after Alaya's bombshell, but the matriarch showed no inclination to continue.

She couldn't wait any longer. "What do you mean she did it to herself? Was it out of grief?" Her voice lowered, not wanting to be heard in the hall outside. "Was it a suicide attempt?"

Alaya turned her head to Sha'ira, seemingly unwilling or unable to continue. The other matriarch nodded in acceptance of the unspoken request, stepping forward to address the doctor.

"Liara brought this upon herself, yes, but it was not deliberate."

Chakwas relaxed, the urgent tension draining out of her shoulders as her exhaustion returned. "I still don't understand," she was too tired for her frustration to show its full strength.

"Liara is very young…" began Sha'ira.

"Believe me, I know," interrupted Chakwas. "I must have heard 'I'm only 106' five times a day for the last six months. She's done very well for herself despite that."

"I am not commenting on her youth in relation to her skills, education, or abilities, but rather her life experience. Liara is truly very young. _Very_ young," Sha'ira emphasized. "Liara is an accredited scientist and Head of a Great House at an age when most maidens are busily distracting themselves by embracing a hedonistic lifestyle. For reference, the youngest members of my court are more than twice her age. I don't know if any human can be fully cognizant of how far Liara stands apart from the maiden norm."

"OK," Chakwas nodded, "I get it. She's unique."

"She is unique, and the circumstances of her life are unique."

Chakwas waited for Sha'ira to continue.

"The 'wild maiden years' that young asari are known for do serve a purpose. It is a time in our lives when we embrace the possible. While Liara spent this period learning about the universe she inhabits, most asari are learning about themselves."

"Through overindulgence."

"So it might seem," conceded Sha'ira. "However, this time permits most young asari to prepare themselves to better manage the later phases of their lives."

"So Liara's in trouble because she never became a dancer?" Chakwas' incredulousness was beginning to show.

"Liara's _condition_ ," Sha'ira stressed the word, "results from the fact that she met what you might call 'the great love of her life' at an age when many asari could consider her a child."

"So now this is Shepard's fault?"

"No, no." Sha'ira's voice exuded the calming tones she was known for. "The timing was at fault. The intensity of Liara's emotions were at fault." The consort glanced at Alaya before continuing. "Benezia's failure as a parent is at fault."

Chakwas couldn't help but notice that surprisingly, Alaya did not rise to Benezia's defense.

"It is difficult to understand why we would conceal such a malady without some context," Sha'ira continued with the tone of one teaching a lesson. "The asari are considered by many to be the most powerful race in the galaxy, but that position is a precarious one. Our navy is known for having the most powerful ships, but we are not a militaristic people. A listing of the galaxy's great military strategists includes no asari. The asari commando is held up to Citadel space as the archetype of the soldier, but no contingent of commandos has ever turned the tide of a major interspecies war. Asari are portrayed as preeminent diplomats, bringing resolution to conflict across the galaxy. In fact, the asari are credited with ending your own First Contact War. Yet we do so not through the craft of negotiation, but by our control of the galactic eezo markets. 'As goes Thessia, so goes the Council,' exists not because of our skillful leadership, but because it is impossible to wage a modern war without element zero."

Sha'ira allowed a moment for her words to sink in. "So you can see why the asari would choose to not draw attention to another area where we might be considered weak or fragile, that being in matters of the mind, and our ability to meld."

Sha'ira's eys took on a faraway look. "Once upon a time, to use a human phrase, the asari were a more warlike people. The fact that any asari can bear a child, combined with our long lifespans, created some regional population pressures and conflict over resources. These "wars" would hardly be considered skirmishes to humans or turians, but to us, they stand out in our history. The fighters most feared during these times were the _amheloh'na_ , the warrior bonded."

"As you might guess, based on the number of asari who pursue careers as commandos or mercenaries, there are many asari who are drawn to the martial arts even today. Despite the numbers in which our maidens and matrons go to battle, the lessons of that time are why asari do not send bonded pairs into conflict to this day." Another glance at Alaya, who hadn't moved. "The reason is _eherihohire'na,_ the rending of the bond. _"_

"So Liara and Shepard were bonded, I get it. You're saying Shepard's death broke the bond and Liara's condition is the outcome." Chakwas tried not to let her building impatience show.

"No, you don't. You _cannot_ , unless you have experienced it. Even having been intimate with an asari is not an adequate reference. The bond is to the meld as the meld is to a passing glance. Bonded pairs literally exchange parts of their selves with one another. They willingly give over part of that which makes them who they are."

"This is starting to sound more like religion than science. Giving an ineffable part of one's self to your lover sounds great for a romance vid, but it doesn't sound workable in fact. Asari bondmates separate all the time. Benezia was separated from her bondmate."

"Science and religion may not be mutually exclusive in this case. The tenets of siari come from our ability to share what, at the time, were thought to be our souls with one another. Also, translation and common usage are impediments in discussions with other species. There are many couples who consider themselves bondmates who are not bonded, although to your point, Benezia was bonded to her mate."

"So the bond can be ended."

"Yes, but not easily, not without preparation, and not without repercussion. Many asari who end a relationship with a partner to whom they've bonded typically choose to to physically separate to another system. The discomfort of not refreshing the bond will pass after a century or two if there is no contact between the bondmates."

"And when a bondmate dies?" Chakwas hated asking the question.

"That is what has happened here, and why bonded pairs do not face battle together. When an asari nears the end of her life, there is celebration and sharing. This also allows a bonded partner to prepare themselves for the ending of their bond even if they do not have the time to bring it to an end themselves. In battle, when a bondmate is injured or killed, the first instinct of an asari is to intensify the bond, to strengthen it. They will put every ounce of their mental ability into trying to save their partner."

"Which doesn't keep them from dying."

"The essence of an individual cannot continue without the body, no matter how much a bondmate might wish it so."

"So that's what happened to Liara."

"She tried to pull Shepard back from death, and experienced her bondmate literally being torn away from her, along with any parts of herself that she had imbedded in their pairing."

Chakwas' eyes were shining when she turned to look at her Liara on the bed. _'You poor thing.'_ She turned back to Sha'ira after a moment to collect herself. "That's terrible. This is instinctual in asari? That's why Liara couldn't stop?"

"There is an innate desire in asari to seek refuge in the bond during times of stress," Sha'ira agreed. "Some are able to overcome it, the rest are where our stories of _amheloh'na_ come from."

"Your 'warrior bonded'."

"Yes. Primitive asari did not know why _amheloh'na_ existed, but they did know how to create them. Simply kill a warrior's bondmate either before or during battle, and they would enter a state not dissimilar from a krogan blood rage. Combatants had a champion who was nearly impossible to defeat. _Amheloh'na_ had enhanced biotics, felt little or no pain, and were impossible to reason with. A single _amheloh'na_ might kill hundreds of enemy soldiers before being brought down under the combined forces of an enemy. They could be considered similar to your premedieval berserkers on Earth." She shrugged at Chakwas' horrified look. "They were a tactic of last resort."

"So you're telling me that Liara's one of these amhe-whatevers now?"

"Why is she sedated?" Sha'ira countered Chakwas' question.

"When she woke up she ripped the restraint bar off of her acceleration chair. I thought she was going to destroy the escape pod."

"If you hadn't been there to take action, she very well might have. Liara was already a powerful biotic. Her capabilities could be doubled at this point."

"I wish I'd known. Maybe I could have sedated her sooner, if there had been some indication…"

"It is likely that Liara herself was unaware of her bond, or of the risks it caused." Alaya interrupted quietly, without leaving Liara's side.

Chakwas joined Alaya, who continued to stare down at Liara. "She didn't know she was bonded? How is that possible?"

"Sha'ira was being… kind in laying the blame for Liara's condition at Benezia's feet. I am as much to blame as she. Possibly more so, as I was recently reminded by her fa… by someone close to Liara."

Chakwas looked askance at Alaya, but decided not to pursue the matriarch's slip for the time being. "Meaning?"

"Liara left home far earlier than a maiden should. Benezia did not pursue her, did not fulfill her obligation as Liara's parent to teach and guide her. It should have fallen to me to ensure that Liara was educated in her abilities, but instead I did what Benezia wanted, I stayed away." Alaya shook her head sadly. "They were so much alike, both so stubborn."

"In Benezia's defense, we have no idea how long she was indoctrinated. Keeping her distance might have saved Liara's life."

"Possibly," conceded Alaya. "And Liara never engaged in the 'hedonism' to which you referred, allowing herself to learn the nuance of the meld. Once she became involved with Shepard, she held nothing back. She gave herself to Sarah completely."

Karin allowed herself to smile at that, at her memories of the pair together, memories now tainted by grief. "If it makes you feel any better, it wouldn't have made a difference. They were meant for each other. Even if they were aware of the risks, it wouldn't have mattered. I don't think it would have occurred to them to try to limit their connection."

When Alaya didn't respond, Chakwas turned back to Sha'ira. "So what's next? Now that we know what's wrong with her, what do we do about it?" Seeing that the matriarchs were concerned but not distressed had done much to help restore Chakwas' own sense of calm. Exhausted or not, Karin was anxious to see her friend on the road to recovery.

Sha'ira took the side of Liara's bed opposite from Alaya and Chakwas. "You have done well, Practitioner," giving the human doctor her first compliment since the pair arrived. "Your 'sedation' was everything we could have hoped for. Liara's body has been preserved undamaged, and her mind has been mostly protected from having to deal with the trauma of her loss." She drew her hand tenderly down Liara's cheek. "Child," she whispered. "I would not have had you endure this."

She looked to Chakwas, finally answering her question.

"Now I must retrieve her."

* * *

A/N: Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning

Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	2. Abandoned

**Summary:**

Liara is trapped in her grief.

* * *

"Retrieve her?" Chakwas had already been having a difficult time keeping up with all the new information. "How? From where? Is there something else you're not telling me?" Karin wondered if she was about to be exposed to yet another revelation about asari physiology.

"Part of what makes an _amheloh'na_ so formidable is their disconnection from self," Sha'ira explained. "Think of it as a defense mechanism, only for a family or clan, not the individual. Some danger, some adversary, has killed their bondmate. That means that the _amheloh'na_ has found herself in an environment that is fatally hostile to asari, or at least to her family. Greater strength, enhanced biotics, extreme aggression, all of these come together to create a warrior who will not just defeat her enemy, but utterly destroy them."

"It also provides an extreme disincentive to attack noncombatants," Alaya added for the first time in a few minutes. "Even if only a small percentage of couples are bonded, and a small percentage of those are separated in a circumstance that creates an _amheloh'na_ , the risk is greater than many choose to accept.

"A normal, empathetic individual would not be capable of remorseless destruction. Compassion, sensitivity to pain or injury, even an awareness of consequence would work against the purpose of the _amheloh'na_." Continued Sha'ira. "She exists to vanquish the foe which severed her bond and placed them in such a state."

"Liara has… retreated into herself, leaving her body behind as a weapon pointed at the heart of those who killed her bondmate. Such primitive explanations lack relevance in modern society, but Liara is in a primitive state. Your sedation will allow me to meld with her safely, and to lead her home."

"I hope it will be that easy," replied the doctor. She was almost impossible to contain on the escape pod.

"It will be," confirmed Alaya confidently.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Denai had been surprised when Doctor Chakwas had come out into the waiting area to collect her.

But not nearly as surprised as when she'd found out why. Sha'ira had quickly pulled her aside.

"…her rejection of my meld was as forceful as any as I have ever encountered. And Alaya," she glanced at the other matriarch, who was now holding a cloth against her face, "Alaya was not only thrown from the meld, Liara's biotics threw her across the room despite her unconscious state. I believe Liara will only respond to someone closer to her, to someone closer to Shepard."

"Consort Sha'ira," Denai began, a formality in her tone that had become rare during her time with Sarah. "Please believe me when I say this. There is nothing I would not do for Liara, fealty or no. Nothing. I do not fear for my life, or safety." An unobtrusive glance at Alaya's obvious bruising was enough to communicate the implication of potential harm. "Nor do I fear failure for failure's sake." She took a deep breath. "Despite that, I am no matriarch. I am not a healer. I do not have your skills and experience. I have no aptitude in your calling, in your ability to provide comfort in times of burden. This is not my gift. It is out of love for Liara, for Benezia, even for Sarah, that I implore you find another option. I would not have Liara's sanity on my conscience. It is out of devotion to the House that I must decline."

Sha'ira simply nodded. "My calling is not an easy one, as you say. To share the misfortunes of those we comfort, to use our empathy to heal, hurts us as much as heals those in need. One requires a deep well of compassion, or risks becoming an emotional husk, all passions extracted and exhausted."

At that she pulled the matron forward into a loose embrace.

"This is not a matter of skill or life stage. Liara does not require the consort, nor is a matriarch of any use to her. You say you love her. Liara needs that love. She needs an understanding that, of those of us assembled, only you have the ability to provide."

"She's lost her bondmate!" Denai's hiss added an overtone of urgency despite the matron not raising her voice. "Lost someone who she loved. Lost someone who loved her like she's never been loved in all her life. Even without the trauma of the circumstances, how can I help her? How can anyone? Can anyone understand the pain she feels at such a loss?"

The Consort took a step back, holding Denai at arm's length while looking into her eyes.

"You do. You understand. You know her pain."

Denai flinched and tried to pull away, but the Consort's hands at her shoulders held her fast.

"No!" Her struggling only momentary, Danai was now as still as a statue.

"This is what you have to offer, what you have that I lack. You too know what it is like to lose a bondmate." Sha'ira's words dared Denai to refute them.

"It was nothing like this! Araire died in a hospital of a malignant neoplasm. We had months to make our farewells. We grieved together!"

"Yours was a bond cut short," she explained. "The love of your bondmate still leaves a mark upon you." Sha'ira waited for a response before continuing. "Liara will be able to see it as easily as I."

Danai held her place for a moment, certain that there was more the Consort wasn't telling her. Matriarchs were wise, to be sure, but they were also masters of manipulation. Finally she turned towards the wall, unable to bear the weight of the Consort's gaze upon her.

"I would not use this pain I carry for any but her," she said, addressing the wall. She didn't turn back to the others as she sighed. "But I will do as you ask," resolution and resignation fought for supremacy as she announced her assent.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Agreeing to such an undertaking wasn't the same thing as actually performing it, of course.

Denai had been somewhat bewildered when the human doctor had taken her in tow as soon as she'd consented to Sha'ira's request.

Chakwas had performed a scan before the matron even had a chance to turn around. She made a "tut-tutting" noise before Denai was given a chance to voice her objection. Chakwas had shaken her head at the results. Some things required no translation, even across species.

Apparently Chakwas was taking no chances after the abortive attempts from Alaya and Sha'ira. The human could have no idea about what had transpired in the meld, but she seemed committed in her objective of helping Denai prepare for it.

The mystified asari found herself eating a pair of not-unpleasant nutrient bars, as well as an electrolyte solution at the doctor's urging. She had even gone so far as to allow herself to be hooked up to a similar monitor and intravenous fluid delivery system as Liara.

"I'd feel better if you took at least a short nap. I know it's barely noon, but we have no idea how long this is going to take. There were times that Liara found melding for just a few minutes to be taxing…" Chakwas trailed off, for once out of her depth, but demonstrating a desire to assist nonetheless.

"Thank you, Practitioner," Denai found herself in the unusual position of trying to put the doctor at ease, although she was the one about to enter into an unknown circumstance. "Liara is a maiden, and in many ways an inexperienced one." She reflected on the doctor's words for a moment. "If Liara had issues with the meld, she had already overcome them by the time she returned to the estate." Obviously so, as she and Shepard had bonded. She pressed on, trying not to seem boasting. "And I am a few hundred years older than she. Although I have never been asked to aid in such a way before," a quick glance to Sha'ira with that, "I am far more experienced with melding than Liara. If anything, it will be more emotionally taxing than physically so."

The doctor had nodded, and Denai was momentarily surprised that she'd asked no further questions. Then she remembered that Chakwas had been with Liara when the bond was severed. The human probably understood very clearly the emotional toll it had placed on the maiden.

"Would you like a chair? Another bed?" The human seemed adamant to support the process, even as the matriarchs seemed intent on distancing themselves from it. Chakwas seemed ready to catch her if she fell. Brave of her, considering the velocity at which Alaya had apparently hit the wall.

"No, Practitioner." She was standing to Liara's left, at her elbow. The bed had elevated the maiden's head and torso slightly. She could hold Liara's hand without strain, and Denai saw no benefit in a more awkward sitting position. She was beginning to sense some small amount of apprehension coming from the doctor. _'Not surprising,'_ thought Denai has she noticed how much the bruise around Alaya's eye had grown. And although she wasn't without her own misgivings, she had no intention of failing Liara.

Or Sarah.

She centered herself as she looked down at Liara. Given how the prior attempts had ended, she knew this might all be for naught. One deep breath as she reached out for the unconscious maiden's mind.

' _Embrace eternity, Little One,'_ more to herself than to Liara.

She entered the darkness.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

The highest levels of Liara's mind were blank, empty. She shivered at how strangely vacant the area was. Denai wandered for a time, trying to insure that there was nothing here of the maiden's "self" with which to interact. Something should be here she knew. Then again that was based on Denai's centuries of experience, and she'd never melded with an _amheloh'na_ before.

There were occasional flashes of memory. She'd rush to them, but none were coherent. She tried to interpret them before they would fade, but had almost no success. All she could tell was that they were recent. They were likely associated with her body's attempts to throw off sedation, muddled thoughts without stimulus or context.

Fortunately Denai had melded with Liara many times. She was familiar with how the maiden's sense of identity manifested, the image of self that she carried in her mentality. That knowledge allowed Denai to discount these higher levels of Liara's mind as the location where the maiden had retreated.

These were also the easiest places to look, so some drawback there.

The matron suddenly realized that either Alaya or Sha'ira could have assisted her by at least letting her know where they had encountered Liara, since each of them had obviously done so. Done so quickly, given how short each meld had apparently been. _'Stupid mistake,'_ she abased herself. Then again, she wasn't a matriarch.

Then again, by leaving her to her own devices, they might be trying to prevent her from repeating their mistakes.

Denai hated playing matriarch games. That was one of several reasons she'd sworn herself to Sarah when she reiterated her allegiance to House T'Soni. That she felt no small responsibility for the maiden Head of House didn't hurt either. Now one of them was dead, one was an invalid, and the situation had been placed squarely on her shoulders. _'Thank you, seneschal,'_ she thought bitterly. So much for Alaya's role as steward of House T'Soni. Then again, it wouldn't be Denai that had to explain the current situation to Aethyta.

That was _almost_ enough to make her feel sorry for Alaya.

She went deeper.

Without warning she found herself shrouded in blackness. This was unfamiliar. At this level of Liara's mind she would have expected to see the a panorama of memories, or the blocked off levels of privacy that an asari would accumulate in her lifetime. Given Liara's age, she wouldn't have expected many.

She turned slowly, and "saw" nothing in any direction. She perceived nothing but a void.

She shrugged, her options seemingly limited to none. One direction being as good as any other, Denai moved herself forward into what should have been the vista of memory.

And was immediately drenched.

Wiping the water from her eyes, Denai found herself at the T'Soni Estate. Not just the estate, but the great lawn between the house and the sea.

An area filled with hundreds of empty chairs, in various disarrangement, as if abandoned in some degree of haste.

Denai knew _exactly_ what this memory was.

She continued forward into the rain, finally reaching the dais overlooking the cliffs. It was there that she found what she expected she would, Liara on her knees looking out onto the storm-swept ocean. Shepard was just behind, with a hand on the maiden's shoulder. Neither had made any accommodation to the deluge they found themselves in.

Although she waited for some time, neither Liara nor Shepard moved or spoke. They hadn't then either, Denai remembered. The pair had been exhausted when they'd finally come into the house. Liara was numb with grief, clinging to a freezing Shepard. Only the human's exhaustion had allowed them to be separated that evening.

Denai moved forward, tentatively, trying to make contact with Liara. Nothing. Eventually the maiden placed her hand on Shepard's, leaning into the human. Otherwise Liara didn't move or react at all. She gave no indication she was aware of Denai's presence.

Not Liara then, Denai concluded as she moved back from the pair. This was the static memory of Benezia's funeral, and not a reliving or reinterpretation. She looked around. For the scene to be this fluid, this detailed, Liara would have to be close by. She shivered at the thought. She'd have to pay closer attention. Given how quickly she'd thrown each matriarch out of her mind, Liara would likely strike quickly and without hesitation.

The house was a grey smudge, hidden in the downpour. Since the real Liara didn't seem to be out in the rain, Denai decided that was as good a place to look as any. She started in the direction of the veranda, when the landscape lurched around her.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

The dramatic change in surrounding left Denai off balance, but just for a moment before she started taking in her new surroundings.

She found herself in an unfamiliar place. She looked around at the environment she suddenly occupied. Prefab, she concluded. Industrial. Maybe a warehouse or a lab. She bounced lightly on the balls of her feet. Light gravity, maybe three quarters that of Thessia.

These observations were only as valid as Liara's memory, she knew, but were all she had to go on.

She couldn't tell much about the building. Lines of sight were blocked by various crates and walls. The place was half maze, half mess. Human, she decided. They loved their dreadful lines and corners, and a turian would have gone insane at the lack of organization.

She'd just started across a large room when she was startled by the sound of gunfire.

Real or no, years of training kicked in and she dropped to the floor. A quick glance told her she was too exposed, and she rolled to her left, into a small cavity where the crates provided cover on three sides.

Once her instincts told her she was safe for the moment, rationality began to reassert itself. She took a deep calming breath as she remembered she wasn't actually _here_. The only thing that could harm her was Liara, and she'd yet found no sign of the maiden.

She peered over the lowest crate, and there they were again. Shepard and Liara were exchanging fire with a group of mercenaries. Shepard was using a pistol, interspersed with biotics. Excellent pistol work, Denai concluded after a moment's observation. This was no suppression fire during cool down periods. The human was at least as deadly with her weapon as with her biotics.

Liara was, less impressive was one way to put it. She used her pistol less often than Shepard, and with less effectiveness. After a few moments Denai decided that Liara actually wasn't that bad, just outclassed by the spectre she fought beside. Biotically though, she seemed a good match for Shepard. They pair worked effortlessly in tandem with each other, detonating each other's abilities for maximum effect. They were a handful of meters apart and the parallax provided allowed them to cover much of the room. A turian in position behind and above them seemed to be working to pick off those the pair missed.

Denai drew back in surprise when one of the mercs the team was fighting crawled right past her. She kicked at the human in reflex, but again to no effect. Shepard's group was about to be flanked and she couldn't do a damn thing about it.

No harm able to come to her here, she stood into the line of fire, just as the merc did the same.

"Liara!" Shepard cried out. The maiden had no cover against the merc, and was on a cooldown to boot. She raised her pistol as she tried to slide behind another crate, but couldn't get there in time.

The blast echoed through the room. The merc taking his shot, the turian taking his. The merc's head expanded in a cloud of vapor, but not before putting a bullet into Shepard's abdomen as she'd leapt between the merc and the maiden.

Shepard dropped as if her strings had been cut, and Liara stood with a blood curdling scream.

"Shepard!"

She didn't bother to resume her position behind cover although the turian yelled to her to do so. Instead she gathered the strongest ball of dark energy Denai could remember seeing before hurtling a throw downrange that was so bright that it hurt Denai to look at it.

The ball of force hit the remaining mercs with a force that Denai estimated must have been in excess of 2000 newtons*, based on how the merc's armor crumpled. She'd never seen a throw that strong, let alone from a maiden. She would have remained dumbstruck in amazement had her attention not been drawn back to Liara by the sound of her dropping to Shepard's side, cradling the human's head in her lap.

"Shepard," Denai could hear the maiden's tears in her voice, "Shhh. Focus on me. Don't think about anything but me."

"I've called for evac," the turian joined the pair. "How's Shepard?"

"Her hardsuit applied medi-gel, but she's still bleeding." Liara tilted her head toward where her hand pressed against the human's abdomen. "I'm applying pressure, but that won't help much where she's wounded."

The commander started to move, and Liara bent down, touching her forehead with her own, causing the human to go still.

"Is she?" The turian sounded nervous.

"I just told her to hold still, that help is coming."

"Ah." The turian looked uncomfortable. Almost as uncomfortable as Denai. Public meldtalk was considered rude among asari, but then Liara wasn't one to follow societal norms. They were in contact though, which told Denai that this memory was probably from the period before they ended up bonded.

It was then that the door to the rear of the building opened, and the human doctor entered, with two other humans at her side.

Even as the physician knelt by Shepard's side, she and Liara only had eyes for each other.

Reminded of why she was here, Denai turned away. This obviously wasn't Liara, just another memory. She looked around for the maiden as the room began to fade away.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

The first thing Denai noticed was the smell of ozone.

She looked around. She was aboard a ship. A heavily damaged one based on what she could see. The lighting was dim, and there was a haze of smoke in the atmosphere.

Denai knew that Liara's time with the spectre meant that she spent time in combat, but for two memories out of three to be in battle brought it home to her on a visceral level. She was tempted to be angry at Shepard. Angry for bringing Liara into such an environment, into such a life. For now, she was able to reign in those feelings. This was absolutely the wrong place and time to be questioning Sarah. Such thoughts might have been why Alaya and Sha'ira had been cast out of Liara's mind with such force.

She started slowly forward, wondering what battle she she found herself in, when she encountered the first body. She knelt beside the corpse. Her eyes ran down the body, categorizing. Human. Female. Alliance. She didn't know enough to ascertain the human's rank or specialty. She stood, realizing that while there were all the signs of battle, there wasn't one going on.

She swept the area with her eyes, and they immediately came to rest on one of the walls. NORMANDY, it stated. She couldn't read Alliance Standard, but she certainly knew the name of Shepard's ship. She'd seen the characters enough to recognize them. Shepard's ship was famous, and humans wrote on everything. It was a defining characteristic.

Now she was puzzled. Shepard's ship had only been in two battles. One was the Battle of the Citadel, which had ended with no fatalities aboard, as far as she knew. The other had resulted in the ship's destruction, many hands lost, including her commander.

' _This isn't a memory,'_ she realized.

Her heart lurched so strongly that the human doctor probably detected it outside the meld. She was going to find Liara here. She knew it. This was where the maiden was hiding, the place she wouldn't allow herself to leave.

She closed her eyes in a moment of calming meditation.

When she opened them again, she took stock of her situation. _'It was a small ship,'_ she remembered as she looked around her. _'And there is a great amount of detail. I probably won't find locations that don't actually exist. A thorough search of the ship should allow me to find her.'_

Unless she suddenly found herself in a new location, she knew. But at this point she thought that unlikely. This place had an aura of finality around it, like all paths led here. It reinforced her belief that this was where she'd find the maiden she sought.

The deck she found herself on was damaged, but she could almost see its entirety from where she stood. No Liara. No surviving crew for that matter.

She looked behind. Two sets of stairs curved away from the deck. One was blocked by debris. One ended at a hatch that indicated zero pressure beyond. She looked down at herself. She was in the same travel jumpsuit she'd been wearing when she entered the meld. Even if it wouldn't kill her, she decided she didn't want to experience the sensation of being spaced. The thought ran her blood cold as she remembered that was how Sarah had died. She hoped Liara hadn't decided to duplicate the experience.

Returning to the bottom of the stairs brought her to a nonfunctional elevator.

Her options were severely limited. _'Liara must be close,'_ she decided.

One hatch led her to the ship's medbay, dark and vacant.

The other was sealed, so she buzzed for entry.

Again.

After a few minutes wait, she activated her omni-tool, and overrode the lock.

The hatch parted, revealing a cabin. Shepard's cabin, Denai realized with the certainty that came from living through the experiences of another.

The room was as damaged as the rest of the ship. Sparking wires hanging from the ceiling. Most of the wall panels broken or damaged. Even the bedding was scorched.

And kneeling on the floor, securing a new wall panel into a vacant area next to the bed, was Liara.

Denai was struck by the incongruity of the scene.

She stepped in, and quietly crossed the room, not wanting to trigger whatever outburst had come before.

She stood over Liara, waiting to be noticed. When no acknowledgement came, she sat on the edge of the bed, and placed a hand on Liara's shoulder. The maiden pulled herself away, and Denai braced herself to be thrown from her mind, but no blow came. Liara continued securing the new panel to the wall, one fastener after another.

Finally the panel was secure, and Liara stood. She made eye contact with Denai for the first time, but there was no emotion there.

Denai rose to join her. This was Liara's world. The matron waited for what would come next. Whatever it was, she was here to serve Liara, and the memory of Shepard.

As if Liara had been waiting for that thought, she flicked her eyes to a pile of material on the floor. Denai turned, and saw wall panels, lighting, tools, all the materials needed to repair the space, waiting to be used. She was sure it hadn't been there when she came in.

Liara raised her eyebrow markings in an impatient expression that Shepard had taught Denai very well.

With a sigh, Denai turned and grabbed a panel.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Time had no meaning as she assisted Liara in repairing the cabin.

Walls, ceiling, electrical systems. All fell before the pair.

It didn't take watching Liara repairing Shepard's terminal to know that this was metaphorical labor, but Denai continued to toil nonetheless. Even so far as going to collect fresh, undamaged linens from a ruined storage area. Obviously this exercise made sense to Liara, and whatever pain the maiden was working through. She'd never spoken, but the pair worked side by side to return the cabin to a pristine condition.

Eventually, there was just no more to be done.

Liara would leave, and return with a book, or an article of clothing. She would spend an inordinate amount of time placing it in just the correct spot, orienting it just so.

She washed all of Shepard's clothing. She cooked a meal that went uneaten, eventually clearing the unused dishes.

Denai sat on Shepard's bed, watching Liara try harder and harder to find things to do, but eventually running out.

Eventually the maiden sat down next to Denai. She was filthy, and looked exhausted. Denai disregarded both, knowing each were just as much a construct of Liara's mind as the room itself.

They stared at Shepard's bookshelf for a long time. Long enough that Denai was starting to think she could make sense of the writing on the spines, when Liara finally spoke.

"She's not coming back." It wasn't a question.

"No," Denai replied quietly. They were well beyond lies.

"I thought if I made it better, if I put it all back together…" she trailed off.

"I know." It hadn't taken long for Denai to recognize the intent behind Liara's behavior.

"I do not know what I'm going to do," honesty there as well. "How can I go on when…?"

"It's hard," Denai admitted. "Maybe the hardest thing."

"She loved me." Probably the strongest statement she'd made so far.

"She did. She does." Denai wasn't going to quibble. "She'd want you to continue with your life. For both of you."

Liara shook her head. The despair coming from the maiden was a physical presence.

"Yes, she would. If she'd lived a day or a hundred years, she would." She paused. "And you both knew it was going to be one of those."

The anger that flashed in Liara's eyes made Denai wonder if she'd gone too far, but it subsided just as quickly.

"I am sorry. You should not have had to come."

Denai refrained from pointing out what Liara already knew, that yes, she did. That the maiden's condition meant that she would have been a very long time coming out of her withdrawal, if ever, without some outside stimulus. Liara knew it as well as she knew her own grief. As she knew Denai's grief.

"It's OK." The Shepard-like platitude felt right, somehow.

"I think I would like to stay here awhile." She turned to Denai. "Alone."

When Denai started to object, she continued.

"I will be along soon," Liara assured the matron.

Denai felt the meld start to unravel around her.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

It was late morning when Denai took a step back from Liara, the meld finally ended. She declined the chair that Dr. Chakwas offered with a small shake of her head, but gratefully accepted tea from Sha'ira.

"Well?" Alaya's tone was sharper than it might have been. An edge to her voice brought on by hours of worry and disuse, reminding Denai that even matriarchs had emotions.

The matron closed her eyes, taking a moment to savor her tea before responding to the question.

"I… found her." That was an understatement. "She did not want to come. Her grief is… overwhelming." She shook her head, knowing that overwhelming couldn't begin to describe what she'd felt from Liara. "She needed someone to experience it with her, to validate it. It took time."

"But?" Pushed Alaya, unwilling to accept anything but success from the matron.

Denai shrugged, denying her own pain with the simple gesture. "I allowed Liara to see that which she would have preferred to refuse." When Alaya's look indicated that she still wasn't satisfied with her explanation, she continued. "I reminded her that Sarah would not have wished this for her. She would not have wanted Liara to withdraw so completely that she disassociated herself from her body." Denai slowly sipped more tea before going further. "Their relationship, while notable in its intensity, was always destined to be short lived, to end before she was even a matron." At that she met Alaya's eyes accusingly. "I reminded her of that as well." The matron's glare was the only heat in an otherwise cool room.

All four women flinched when Liara suddenly sat up, lurching forward, the maiden's hand digging into her chest with her sharp inhale.

Chest heaving, she looked around slowly, carefully taking stock of her surroundings. She made eye contact with each of the occupants of her room, but acknowledged none of them. As her breathing slowed, she bowed her head. Her hands wrapped themselves in the edge of her blanket, as if they had nowhere else to go. Her fingers slid along the fringe, worrying at an imperfection visible to none but her.

As one the group stepped closer. All were united in sharing the desire to wash away the anguish from the young asari's face, each wordlessly attempting to offer comfort, while trying not to impose upon Liara before she was ready to engage

Liara ignored them, as she remained focused on her hands. If she felt the intensity of the moment, she gave no sign. Her companions watched in silence. The tinge of grey began to leave Liara's skin. The color slowly returned to her eyes, although perhaps without as much brightness as usual.

Liara's fingers slowed, stopped. She looked up, blinked once, then once again. Her companions closed in more tightly around her, and she edged back, withdrawing slightly as they drew near. Her eyes repeated their earlier sweep across her companions, more hesitantly this time. Only this time she was more aware, more in control of her faculties. Alaya received a nod, Sha'ira a look of intense gratitude, Denai, a gentle touch to the hand, communicating a debt that might never be paid.

But it was Karin whom Liara abruptly pulled to her. Karin to whom she clutched like a drowning person. Karin whose neck Liara buried her face in.

Karin, who held her close while the ugly, gut-wrenching sobs wracked the maiden's body.

After several long moments, Sha'ira led the other asari from the room, choosing to leave Liara to her heartbreak.

* * *

A/N: Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning

Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	3. Recovery

**Summary:**

Where Liara hopes to make things the way they used to be

* * *

The room was dark when Liara opened her eyes.

She stretched, taking a deep breath, allowing the sensations to confirm what the maiden already suspected. She was still in her hospital bed. She still had the IV and a sensor pad attached to her arm. The IV probably explained why she wasn't thirsty.

She slowly continued with a rudimentary self evaluation. No injuries. She hoped she would have noticed any before, but she had not been at her best. She noticed that her head still hurt, but not as much as when Karin had forced her back to sleep. She hadn't gone willingly, forcing Chakwas to use a light sedative in conjunction with a warm hug that had made Liara not want to let go. She forced the memory from her mind.

She was stiff when she moved, which did not surprise her in the least. She'd been in the bed at least long enough for Alaya to arrive from Thessia. She knew that she should probably get out it and start using her muscles again. At the same time, she couldn't find any reason to.

Closing her eyes brought no relief to her lack of ambition, so she opened them again.

The opacity of the gloom made her momentarily wish for the hospitals on the citadel, or back home on Thessia. Even after dark, the city lights would creep ever so slightly around the window coverings, granting a patient at least a hint at the time of day.

She moved again, pushing weakly against the weight of the blankets. They were far lighter than the weight of her apathy.

"You're awake," barely a whisper in the darkness.

Liara froze, just for a second, her brain still addled by sleep and grief. Was she in danger? If so, did she care? A moment passed before she was reassured by the familiarity of the voice.

"Consort," she replied softly into the black.

The lights came up just enough for her to be aware Sha'ira's shape in the shadows. A quick glance confirmed they were alone in the room.

"Sha'ira, please," the Consort chided lightly. "We've been well beyond titles for some time, have we not?"

Liara wouldn't go so far as to think she detected a smile in the Consort's manner, but her tone seemed to be a comforting one.

"I owe you an apology, _Sha'ira_ ," Liara stressed the Consort's name even as her voice remained quiet. "You only meant to help. You might have been killed. I could have _killed_ you." Liara was almost glad she could feel the guilt for her actions as she looked away in shame. Emotion had been slow to come since waking up.

"Possibly," came the calm reply, "but I think that result would have been unlikely." She paused for a moment, waiting until Liara turned back to her. "If anything, it is I who should apologize. Your bond was ripped from you under the worst of circumstances. Yours is a wound that has barely begun to heal. I should have been more patient, should have helped you with your despair instead of trying to turn you from it." She paused. "I used poor judgement in how I attempted to reach and comfort you." Probably the worst thing that a consort could admit.

"And I should have responded in a more correct manner. My first duty is to my House. Your admonishment should have reminded me of that, should have reawakened that sense of duty." It was not lost on Liara that Shepard would have responded nearly the same.

Sha'ira did chuckle at that, and Liara watched as the Consort adjusted herself in her chair. "You need not fear, Young One. Your sense of duty is very well developed. It is however, strongly focused on Shepard."

A single tear wet Liara's cheek at the mention of her bondmate's name. "Nonetheless."

"No," Sha'ira shook her head. "It was my own lack of judgement, and we shall speak no more of it. Your dedication to your House is without question, and it was wrong of me to remind you of it during such an emotional time." She took a breath. "The only excuse I can offer is my own sentimental state. Your bondmate touched many, myself included."

The maiden pondered Sha'ira's words for a time. Shepard had helped so many. "Sha'ira," Liara finally asked, "Why are you here?"

The lightest of shrugs. "I am here because I am needed." When Liara merely waited, the Consort continued. "And at the request of Councilor Tevos, among others. As for why I am in your room, the human doctor would not leave your side until I promised to stay with you. She is one of many who care about your wellbeing."

"Is Alaya all right?" Liara couldn't help but notice that Sha'ira hadn't mentioned the other matriarch.

"She is well." The reply was a monotone.

"But not here." Liara was still speaking softly, but she couldn't keep the barest hint of accusation from creeping into her tone.

"There are acolytes at the door, and she knows I am present. She felt there was no need for us to both miss another night's sleep." Sha'ira might be justifying Alaya's actions, but Liara could tell that she did not endorse them.

"That is probably for the best," Liara comforted. "I am not sure that I could speak to her yet, at any rate." The maiden knew that it was unseemly to let her anger show, especially when the target was someone so highly ranked in her House. Unfortunately she didn't have the strength to contain it. Knowing Sha'ira seemed to share her anger as well, made this a topic best left alone for the moment.

Sha'ira, at least, did not seem to question that decision.

"And Denai?" Finally, Liara moved on to the question that she was embarrassed to ask. She had every reason to expect that Denai was all right, but she had exposed her weakness to the matron. In her despair, she had shared herself to a degree that not even Shepard had been privy to.

"She is also well," Sha'ira confirmed, in a slightly more upbeat tone. "She serves your House with distinction," she added after Liara didn't immediately reply.

Liara was relieved, even though the response did not tell her if Denai had shared that she'd seen.

Liara shook her head at the thought. This was _Denai_ she was thinking about.

The _princeps_ had grown exceptionally close to Shepard during their time together. It was likely that the matron was nearly as grief stricken as Liara herself. She probably needed comfort as well. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, Liara was certain she's shared nothing of what Liara had revealed.

"Where is she?"

"Resting, at the human doctor's insistence. The meld was exceptionally long and taxing." Again, Sha'ira did not seem to judge.

Liara didn't have an answer to that anyway. She was the cause of any distress that Denai had undergone. "She should not be alone." There. Liara had managed to convey Denai's need without violating privacy and propriety.

Now though, she could _feel_ Sha'ira's smile in the darkness. When Shepard had been at her side, she'd thought she could move mountains, or at least matriarchs. Now she felt like a child again. Uncertain, and constantly questioning her decisions.

"It is shortly after midnight, Young One. You should go back to sleep. We can continue this discussion in the morning." The Consort seemed to imply that she wasn't going anywhere. "You need not worry. One of my court is with Denai, and will not leave her side. It is the grief you share that allowed her to reach you. Her sorrow is what persuaded you to allow her to. I would not allow such pain to go untended."

"Now rest." This time it was not a suggestion.

Sha'ira's direction held merit, Liara conceded, and she did consider it. Unfortunately, neither option, sleep and face Shepard, nor remain awake and endure life without her, held any appeal for the maiden.

A silence settled between them.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

There was activity in her room when Liara woke for the second time. The lights were on. The lack of a window still prevented the maiden from getting a feeling of the time of day, but the clock over her door informed her that it was a little before eight.

A noise prompted her to look over. Dr. Chakwas was just out of her comfortable field of vision, seemingly attending to the instruments that were still attached to her arm. Sha'ira was nowhere to be seen.

"Good morning, my dear." Chakwas' words caused Liara to close her eyes again for a moment as she turned her head back. The greeting was so heartbreakingly normal that it made her want to sob. She'd heard it close to a hundred times before, as Karin would offer her tea. She found herself taken back to all the mornings when she would pad sleepily into the medbay, having yet again stayed up too late.

To hear it now was just another reminder of how much she'd lost.

"You drugged me." Her words came without feeling. She realized as she spoke that it was the only explanation. She had lain in the darkness for what felt like hours, not sleeping, not wanting to sleep.

Then suddenly she'd woken up.

"Oh yes," Chakwas cheerfully agreed. "Stubborn patients are so much easier to care for when I can administer medication remotely."

"I wasn't the stubborn one," retorted Liara without thinking.

Chakwas faltered for a fraction of a second before she continued. "You needed your rest, and I wasn't above playing dirty to make sure you got it."

"I'm sorry," murmured Liara in response.

Karin ignored the apology as she waved her omni-tool over the maiden. "Not great," she offered as she reviewed the readings. "But I can honestly say I've seen worse. I think you're doing well enough, especially considering what you've been through. Your levels of the asari equivalents of cortisol and epinephrine are still higher than I would like, but we've managed to keep everything else in line with medication." She looked down at her patient. "It would still have been easier to treat you if I'd been able to diagnose your condition sooner." She shook her head. "At least the Consort was helpful. Once it was her asking on my behalf, I had more data than I knew what to do with." She smiled reassuringly. "If I ever leave the Alliance, I could probably practice on Thessia."

"Please," began Liara, "You don't need to…"

Chakwas cut her off. "Do you feel well enough to get out of bed? Would you like to take a shower?" She indicated the door to the washroom. "I can order breakfast so it's ready when you're done."

Liara could finally take no more. "How can you be so calm?" She screamed. "Shepard's dead! The last thing I care about is a shower!" The tears had begun to flow, but she refused to acknowledge them.

Karin just regarded her calmly for a moment, then sat down on the bed next to the asari.

She took the maiden's hand. "I know, dear. I'm sorry."

Liara yanked it back. "Sorry? You're sorry? How are you not screaming?"

Chakwas met Liara's accusatory stare unflinchingly. "The same way I wasn't when we lost Jenkins." She hesitated, putting her hand on Liara's arm. "Now I apologize, that was before you joined us. The same way I wasn't when we lost Sergeant Williams, or when we lost any of the Alliance personnel I knew at the Battle of the Citadel."

Liara's eyes, tearing and purple-rimmed, widened at the comment. She had felt Shepard's guilt over the Alliance forces lost in that battle, but she had missed the ramifications of the cost of their victory. Their ship, their family, had been untouched. She had been so relieved and so focused on Shepard's recovery that it had simply never occurred to her how close that Shepard, Karin, or any of her Alliance colleagues might have been to those who died in the battle.

And of course Shepard had never brought it up. The commander never shared her burden with Liara, even though it had bothered her enough to memorize the names of the ships destroyed by her order.

' _I am a horrible, selfish person,'_ she thought. It was difficult for her not to start crying harder. Instead, as with Sha'ira, she turned away as she focused on her shame, on her feelings of guilt. It gave her something to feel other than the pain of loss.

She'd barely begun to process how callous she'd been in the face of others' grief when Chakwas continued.

"My dear, I'm a doctor, and I'm a soldier. Losing those I care about comes as a part of each of my callings."

"How can you stand it?" Liara's reply was almost unintelligible. "You sound just like Sha'ira."

"There are similarities," Karin agreed. "First among them is that neither of us has the luxury to acknowledge our feelings when they occur. It doesn't mean we don't feel them." She placed her finger on Liara's chin and turned the maiden's face back to her. "I need to be able to postpone my grief, suppress it. I have to be able to continue to function even at times like this." She indicated Liara and the room around them. "That way I can still be of use, able to help those who can still benefit from my help."

"And those that can't?" Liara asked bitterly.

Chakwas smiled sadly. "They don't mind."

"I cannot do it," murmured Liara as she hung her head. "I do not want to do it."

After a few moments, she looked back up at Karin. "You're not going to tell me I can?"

"Would you believe me?" asked the doctor.

"No!" Came Liara's emphatic response.

Chakwas shrugged her shoulders. "You're strong, Liara. I've always known that. So did she." Karin stood up from the bed. "What you do with that strength is up to you." She waited for a reply before adding. "Do you want that shower?"

"No," Liara replied tiredly as she started to pull herself out of the bed.

"No?" Asked Chakwas as she moved to help her.

"No," confirmed Liara. She looked at Karen as the doctor helped her up, with eyes a blend of sadness and steel. "But I am going to take one anyway." She brushed off Karin's hand as she made her way to the washroom, each step longer than the one before.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

"I'm always willing to make time for you, Doctor," Admiral Hackett said as he sat down at his desk. "Particularly at a time like this. I'm sorry for your loss." He gave Liara a moment to respond before continuing. "I have to admit that I didn't expect to see you up and around so soon."

Liara sipped the tea that the admiral's aide had provided before she responded. "I could not remain in that room any longer. I have already had too much time alone with my thoughts. I would prefer to stay busy. There is so much to do."

' _Just like Shepard,'_ she could see in his eyes before he replied. She looked down into her cup, unable to tolerate the perceived comparison.

"There is," he finally agreed. "What are your plans then? Do you intend to return to Thessia?"

She shook her head as she slowly exhaled. Liara was relieved that by turning the discussion immediately to work, she had circumvented any further condolences.

"Both the T'Soni Estate and holdings are well in hand. I could return, but my people know their jobs better than I." The brief touch of smile that crossed her lips was an expression that Shepard would have recognized. "With the Conclave already displeased with some of my decisions, I would be more a liability on Thessia than an asset," she finished honestly, before taking another sip of tea. "I need to be an asset."

"I understand the desire Doctor, but I'll be honest. If you were in the Alliance, I'd consider you a candidate for medical discharge, not a return to duty." The response was blunt, but not unkind.

"How fortunate for us both that I am not a member of the Alliance." She kept a bitter edge out of her voice, but only just.

He nodded at the newly replaced contractor's badge at her collar as if to refute her claim. "This obviously isn't a social call. What can I do for you, Doctor?"

"It was my research that originally made me a target of Saren. My knowledge that allowed Shepard to stop him, and Sovereign." She looked up to meet the Admiral's eyes. "I believe that my expertise in regards to the Protheans is of more use than trying to assist Stallura with logistics or Eliata with the training of huntresses."

Hackett spread his hands as he nodded agreement. "I agree. How can I help?"

"The Alliance controls the excavations currently underway on Ilos. I would like to join the archeological expedition." She was proud that the request didn't sound like begging.

Hackett's lack of response told her everything she needed to know. After a few moments of silence, the human rose to his feet. "More tea?"

Liara nodded the affirmative. "Yes, please," she replied. She carefully placed her cup on his desk, as not to reveal the subtle tremor in her hands.

"Ilos is a big deal for the Alliance, Doctor," he began while pouring more tea. "It's the first time that humanity has been placed in charge of a Prothean expedition outside of the Sol system."

"I am aware." Liara reached for her cup, sliding it carefully to her so it didn't rattle.

"There would be more than a little discontent if Alliance scientists believed that they were being checked up on by one of the Council races."

"Would it be easier for you politically if I were to request Council sanction?" Liara was willing to do whatever the admiral would ask.

"If anything, that would make it worse." He waved away her objection. "I disagree. I want you there. I think we need all the help we can get, especially from an expert such as yourself. Unfortunately, there are many who believe that this is an opportunity for humanity to prove itself on the galactic stage, to demonstrate that we're up to the task."

"The Battle of the Citadel wasn't enough?"

"You and I both know that the reason the Alliance is on Ilos in the first place is because both the asari and turian forces were decimated in the attack. They don't want to spend the resources needed to investigate Ilos, and humanity was willing to stretch itself just a little thinner to prove that we could."

"Even in the face of such an unreasonable decision, I fail to see how my assistance would undermine any potential achievement of humanity."

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" He snorted. "Humans are a proud race, Doctor. To our detriment, more often than not." He shook his head. "I can't make it happen. Not yet. If we give it a few months, and there are no revelations forthcoming, we can revisit. By then the desire to show results might overcome any concern about who provides them."

"Mars then," Liara pressed on.

"Aggressive, but no."

"Why not?" She questioned. "You already agreed that my Prothean expertise was an asset."

"Doctor T'Soni, there hasn't been a nonhuman visitor to the Prothean Archives on Mars since the initial asari envoy in 2157. You're not going to be one who breaks that trend."

"Again, why not?" She insisted. "There's not a human alive who has studied the Protheans for as long as I have!"

"That's one reason," he replied dryly. "Another is that we both know that humanity's exclusive right to the Mars Archive is going to be short lived at best. Franky I'm surprised that we've held onto it this long. If it becomes common knowledge that we've allowed an outside researcher access to the archive itself instead of just the data we've pulled from it, then we've handed the Council a fait accompli. There won't be room for human researchers with all the galactic scientists that will be flocking there."

"Perhaps as it should be, Admiral," countered Liara. "No other known Prothean site is in as good a condition."

"Ilos is a possibility, just not yet. Mars isn't." Hackett closed the door on that part of the discussion. "Why not join an asari expedition?"

"Because, as you know, my theories are not well received by my peers, nor my government." She sighed. "There is a reason that most of my field work was performed solitarily, in obscure locations."

"That didn't seem to hurt your results."

"I've spent nearly fifty years in the field, Admiral. Alone, with the most rudimentary of equipment. Think of the progress I could have made with the right opportunity, with proper backing."

"Backing isn't a problem now, is it?" Hackett sipped at his own cooling coffee. "You can certainly afford to fund your own expeditions. Nor is obscurity a problem. Despite not being well received at home, there seems to be quite a bit of interest in your papers recently. You don't need me if you want to return to archaeology."

"At the moment humanity is in control of excavating two of the most well preserved Prothean historical sites. Funding or no, it could take decades to find another site that would be anywhere close to as useful." Liara fought to keep an edge of desperation out of her voice.

"You sound as if fieldwork is your only option. Your research wasn't only based on primary sources, was it?"

She sighed. "No, Admiral, of course it wasn't. It is a large galaxy, and the asari have been investigating the Protheans for thousands of years. The data accumulated is immense."

Hackett nodded. "Then consider this. Assume the role you've already accepted. Prothean expert. Strategic analyst. Instead of going into the field, you can work here on Arcturus. You have clearance. I can get you access to the data coming from Mars and from the Ilos expedition. It all goes through here anyway. No one would need to know that's what you're working on."

Liara considered. "But I would still have to depend on the field work performed by the human scientists…"

"Just like the rest of us, at least until we can get you to Ilos. I'm sorry Doctor, that's the best I can do." He finished his coffee. "And before you ask, no you can't publish. At least not anytime soon."

She shook her head as she made her decision. "That is not a concern. I accept."

"Excellent."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Events moved quickly after Liara reiterated her willingness to work with Admiral Hackett. Orders were given, and subordinates executed the admiral's instructions with alacrity. She was speedily provided with both access to Alliance systems, and assigned a workspace from which to access them. Hackett brought their meeting to a close, and Liara was escorted out of the Fifth Fleet's administrative wing.

And so Liara was shortly walking uncomfortably through the Alliance section of Arcturus Station.

She surprised herself by behaving in an uncharacteristically timid manner as she moved among the humans. The passages were large, but seemed more difficult to navigate than the cramped quarters of the Normandy. There, the various members of the crew would step aside, if not with a smile than at least a polite nod.

Not so in the Alliance annex of the station. Here it seemed to be every sentient for herself. The babble of conversation mixed with the heavy thumping of combat boots threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn't hear her own soft footfalls over the din. She forced herself to breathe in slow, steady measures, a veneer of manufactured serenity on her face, as not to broadcast her uneasiness.

Despite her desire for calm, steady motion, she found it difficult to force herself through the crowd. Individuals would stop too closely to each other for her to step between, and others would cut so closely to her that she would reflexively recoil.

She didn't feel _unsafe_ , not exactly. Just nervous. Most of the humans ignored her entirely. Some seemed curious at the presence of an asari in this human redoubt, but kept their curiosity in check after a glance at her security badge. Only a small percentage looked upon her with open hostility. It was a hostility that she would recently have been willing to engage. Now she averted her gaze, shoulders tightened, as she involuntarily shrank into herself.

Time with Shepard had begun to make her believe herself courageous. Now she skittered away when confronted, stepping aside from any potential provocation. She'd lived among humans for nearly half a year, but suddenly they made her feel exposed and vulnerable in a way she hadn't felt before, not even when she was alone on a dig.

' _Is this what losing Shepard has done to me?'_ She wondered, woefully disappointed in herself. _'How quickly did I grow dependent on her that I lost confidence in my own abilities?'_

She looked across the mass, at the ocean of humanity before her, and forced herself to remember that even unarmed and unarmored, the majority were no match for her. _Collectively_ , they were no match for her. She was the daughter of matriarchs. Her strength and her biotics were more than a match for any human. _'Especially now,'_ she reflected.

' _I am Liara T'Soni, daughter of Benezia'_ , she reminded herself. The admonition brought a degree of reinforcement to her crumbling sense of self.

It lasted for about a minute.

In the end, she struggled through. The directions provided by her omni-tool finally lead Liara to her newly assigned office, her only injury being another blow to her mental state. Two dozen minutes of walking had delivered her to a nondescript hallway in an inconsequential part of the of the station, at the cost of her self esteem.

81627-AX read the reassuringly mundane identifier on the door. It opened for her credentials.

The office was tight, constrained. The small space was lightly furnished with a desk and two chairs across from her own. Four grey bulkheads and a door that opened directly onto the hallway constituted the entire space.

There was room on her desk for a terminal, and a scant handful of pads. If the desk had faced the wall instead of the door, it would have greatly reminded her of her space on the Normandy. She shook her head to clear the thought. The idea of anyone but Shepard coming up behind her unchallenged made her uncomfortable in the extreme.

It was also nothing like her office at home. None of the rich trappings, nothing to catch an eye or trigger a memory. Nothing to make her feel complacent or cozy. That was good. Home was Shepard. Comfort was Shepard. She needed as few reminders of her lost bondmate as possible. The painful memories were already reminder enough.

All in all, the space was practically distraction free. She could lose herself here. In this place she wouldn't be Shepard's biotic squadmate or the Normandy's prothean expert. She'd be an analyst, head down over her data. She would be a nondescript researcher, anonymous save for the results she produced.

It was almost like going back in time.

She hadn't yet sat down when someone buzzed for entry.

"Please come in," she responded to the signal. Growing up with the formal courtesy the T'Soni estate meant that she might never grow comfortable with the Alliance and their single word invitations, their "enters" and "comes". Shepard had of course always walked right in without so much as a knock…

She brought herself back to the moment as an earnest looking young lieutenant entered the room. He was head down as he stepped into her office, his eyes on the datapad he held.

"Doctor T'Soni, I've been assigned to…" His voice trailed off to nothing when he looked up to see Liara standing behind her desk.

"Yes?" She prompted tiredly, when the young man failed to continue.

"A-apologies, Ma'am," he hesitated. "I wasn't aware that you were an asari."

She spread her hands, indicating all of herself. "And yet I am, as you are human." The man's lack of response forced her to go further. "Is that going to be a problem?" She hoped not, but even the Normandy crew hadn't all been welcoming at first.

"Ma'am. No Ma'am. I was just surprised is all." He continued to look at her intently.

Liara sighed again, for the Goddess knew how many times that day. "Is that for me, Lieutenant?" She asked the human as she held out her hand.

"What?" Replied the Lieutenant as he looked at her hand. Finally he followed the direction she was indicating until it intersected with the pad he was holding. "Yes!" He finally exclaimed as he handed it to her. "This includes the archive locations for the first sets of data that the admiral would like for you to evaluate. It also lists the lab schedules, and contact codes for various department heads in the research departments." He rocked back on his heels as he waited for a response.

Liara closed her eyes at the thought. Of course a hierarchical organization like the Alliance Navy would have a rigid reporting structure. She could only hope that whoever she reported to would provide her the freedom she needed to achieve her results.

"And who is the department head for…" Liara hesitated, realizing that she had no idea what department she was part of.

"Ma'am?"

"Who is in charge of archaeological research on the station?" Probably an easier question than asking who she reported to, although, she decided, the admiral should have given her some indication of her place in his organization.

"Uh, you are Ma'am? You report directly to the admiral?" The lieutenant seemed confused at Liara's question.

"One piece of good news," she muttered to herself. "And what is your name, Lieutenant?" She could read his name badge, but didn't want to risk mispronouncing the man's name.

"Tremblay, Ma'am. My code's on there too," he indicated the pad Liara was holding. "One of my duties is to act as your aide, so I'll be who you go to if you need anything."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," she place the pad on the desk as she sat down.

The man hesitated for a moment before deciding he was dismissed. "Ma'am," he replied with a nod before leaving her office.

It was already late in the day. She knew that the time, along with her need to rest would prevent her from getting much done. She logged into the terminal and accessed her messages anyway.

One, from Iryra, hinted at thousands of other messages offering condolences about Shepard. Liara had no plans to read any of them. Iryra was already handling them, so Liara ignored any messages so categorized.

Liara added a filter, narrowing the tens of thousands of messages down to under a hundred.

She skimmed the remaining list; Garrus, Kaidan, Tali, Tali, Tali, Tali, Tali, Denai, Tali. She flagged Denai's message for follow up. Liara might not want to talk about Shepard, but Denai deserved anything she asked for of her. She filed the rest.

Then her eyes were drawn to a anonymous message from an unknown sender. Such a message should not have made it to her at all, let alone be ignored by her filter. She flicked the open symbol even as she prepared to drag it to the trash.

Instead of doing so, her finger started shaking instead. She choked back a gasp before she'd made it five words.

"Dr. T'Soni,

Shepard's body located on Omega. Shadow Broker involvement likely.

If this information is of interest to you, contact me in Afterlife."

There was no signature.

She tried to hold her response in check, to keep her emotions reigned in, but the enormity of the possibilities overwhelmed her.

She laid her head on her arms and sobbed.

* * *

A/N: Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Pre Redemption comic

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero / Busily Dead

As always, feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	4. Chases

**Summary:**

Where Miranda comes into play, and Liara heads for Omega

 **Reference:**

Several callbacks in this one:

Mass Effect Galaxy game

Mass Effect Comics; Evolution, Foundations 2, Redemption

Necessities in Cari'ssi'mi Drabbles

Obligations Ch 15

* * *

Click. Click. Click.

You could learn a great deal about someone from their footsteps. They were a consistent part of a person's expression.

With experience, an individual might be able to identify another by the force and timing of their footfalls. Were their strides bold and forceful, allowing their presence to fill a space? Did they drag their feet, allowing their hesitant nature to show? Did they stomp, fearlessly announcing their presence to all, or tiptoe, trying to avoid as much interaction with others as possible? Even emotional insight was attainable. The cadence of an individual's stride could provide clues to their sense of urgency. Were they rushed? Were they fleeing?

Click. Click. Click.

These steps in particular, were steps with purpose. Each step the same precise distance, with a regularity that rivaled a metronome. There was a strength behind them that would elicit fear in many enemies, and yet they were combined with a grace that suggested the potential of more than just pain. These were steps that could cause one to flee, or to follow. They were not steps to be ignored, for to do so would be at peril.

The members of Cerberus who frequented the station had had a great deal of time to learn to interpret the sounds of these particular footsteps. They had learned to detect the subtle differences in mood and expectation. To know when it was appropriate to interact, and when not to. Those that hadn't, well, they'd learned to regret their inattention to such detail.

The majority of them survived that education.

Click. Click. Click.

Miranda Lawson was annoyed.

In a matter of days she'd lost a ship, Shepard's body, and a certain percentage of her self respect. She still wasn't sure if she was pleased that Jacob had been able to rescue her, or upset that she'd needed his assistance. Their mission to retrieve the commander's corpse had been a successful failure. Although they'd returned empty handed, it had served to reinforce the opinion she'd formed on Cartagena Station when she had first encountered Mr. Taylor. Now she walked away from the Terminus certain that recruiting the man was no longer an option, but a necessity. Cerberus needed good people, and Jacob, more than anything, was… good.

She'd answered all his questions, but he remained noncommittal. She wouldn't bring him before The Illusive Man until he was sure. She knew he'd make the right decision, but she didn't want to wait for him to make it. She also knew that pressuring him was the surest way to drive him away.

She hated waiting, and in this instance they didn't have the time. Shepard didn't have the time. Surely he could see that.

Click. Click. Click.

Miranda Lawson was beautiful.

She continued resolutely down the center of the corridor, and as usual, making no accommodation for others. The sound of her heels against the floor sounded like nothing as much as the popping of a weapon's heat sink. If she were to ever give it thought, she would like that analogy. It was an effective way to insure that people were aware of her presence. She barely cast a glance at the various scientists, administrators, and troopers who hurried out of her way. She was aware of course, that many of them turned and watched her after she passed. Both men and women would admire her body as she strode down the hallway. She thought no less of them for it, mostly because it was impossible for her to think any less of them than she already did.

In any event, she'd long stopped paying attention to such behavior in others. Her body had been designed to attract such attention, and that design was nothing if not effective. She'd used her body as a distraction more than once. The fact that she could use it as such was poor compensation for how much attention it drew at other times, when such regard was unwanted. That, along with her disdain at the idea of having been designed to someone else's idea of perfection, caused her to have little association between her body and her sense of self.

Click. Click. Click.

Miranda Lawson was not to be trifled with.

The Illusive Man kept the environment at Cronos Station cooler than was comfortable for most humans. It never seemed to bother him, of course. He with his loose clothing and open collars. Miranda sometimes wondered if the exposure to the artifact on Shanxi had changed his tolerance for temperature along with the other abilities he'd been granted. If so, it was a small price to pay.

Not that she really noticed anyway. Miranda had long ago adjusted to The Illusive Man's idiosyncrasies, his temperature preferences included. This particular one didn't come up often anymore. Given her current role as his de facto second in command, her duties seldom saw her in his physical presence.

Such separation was fortunate given the most recent redesign of the Cerberus uniform for female operatives. She'd originally thought the form fitting bodysuit was a joke, or a test, until she'd seen Rasa wearing an identical uniform. It provided nearly no protection from the environment.

So she'd embraced it, even going so far as to reject wearing armor on missions. If it was a test, she had been determined to exceed all expectation. Asari commandos were known for wearing leather instead of armor as a way of exhibiting the strength of their barriers. It also allowed them additional stealth and greater freedom of movement. She'd followed their example and taken to doing the same. Her barriers were more than sufficient to protect her in battle. Those who perceived her method of dress as vulnerability usually didn't live long enough to correct their mistake. All in all, the change had worked to her advantage, and was really only noticed when she visited Cronos.

Click. Click. Click.

Miranda Lawson was grateful.

Not to the egomaniacal bastard who designed her genome and called himself her father. No, not him. Who was so in love with themselves that they would create a cloned child from their own DNA? Only someone with too much money who had surrounded themselves with people who wouldn't say no.

No, it was Jack Harper who held her gratitude. The man had been her savior, her defender. He'd provided her a refuge where she could become who she was, not who someone else wanted her to be.

It was no small affair. The Illusive Man had protected her, and assisted in the rescue and concealment of her sister. Both actions had alienated Cerberus' largest human donor. The amount of money that protecting Miranda and Oriana from Henry Lawson cost Harper defied easy calculation.

She could never think of herself as being worth such a sacrifice. She was good, she knew that, but not worth the billions that she cost the organization.

She'd tried once to let him know she understood, to let him know how truly beholden she felt to him for what he'd done. Even offered herself to him. Purposefully, deliberately, being fully present and not holding herself back as she'd often done on missions.

He'd rebuffed her advances, but kindly, telling her to never bring it up again. She never knew why. His appetites were legendary, and seemed to follow no pattern.

But as always, she followed his direction. He wanted her obedience, not her gratitude. That's what she made certain that he received from her.

Cerberus was where she'd found a home, and she would do nothing to jeopardize it.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

He kept her waiting in the dark antechamber, as he typically did.

Of course he knew she was there. Nothing escaped his notice on Cronos. This dance they played was not a new one. She knew he had nothing but the utmost respect for her, but they were not equals, and he made sure that she never lost awareness of that.

After a period during which Miranda had silently marked time by counting seconds, the door finally slid open. She silently stepped into his inner sanctum. No tapping of heels, no overt announcement of her presence here. This was his place, not hers, and she would only fill as much of it with herself as he permitted.

He neither rose nor turned, so she continued forward. Remaining behind him was not an acceptable option. He was completely aware of her position, but he would not tolerate anyone standing at his back for long. She slowly crossed the room until she was standing in a familiar position at the edge of the abyss. She gazed out onto the star Anadius, taking in its boiling surface. She would find such a view distracting, but The Illusive Man seemed oddly comforted with his range of vision being filled with nuclear fire.

"Miranda," he began as if their conversation had been underway for some time. "The drell has made contact with Dr. T'Soni. She will arrive on Omega soon."

So much communicated with so few words. "Miranda" meant that he was not displeased with her for losing the stasis pod containing Shepard. "Miss Lawson" would have been a mild rebuke, while no address at all would have been a method to convey extreme anger.

"The drell" could only mean Feron, the only drell Cerberus currently used as an agent. A weak reed, Feron. He was a man with multiple allegiances, the first and foremost to his financial ledger. He was only as loyal as the highest bidder. Fortunately Cerberus had deeper pockets than many.

"Dr. T'Soni" confirmed what Miranda already suspected. She was to continue her mission to retrieve Shepard. Lawson had never met the asari, but the dossier that had been made available to her had evoked an almost instinctive distrust in the alien. Shepard had lived a life of few attachments, and no romantic entanglements worthy of the name, until suddenly she'd become perplexingly enmeshed with the asari. Shepard lead from her heart to be sure, but suddenly that heart had expanded to include any number of nonhuman individuals, with seemingly the entire asari race at the center of her newly expressed xenophilia. Miranda had no idea what T'Soni had done to split the commander's loyalties like she had, but if the asari could be persuaded to join in the search for Shepard, she could be an asset. At least until the personal level of her involvement became a liability.

"Omega" meant that The Illusive Man knew the location of Shepard's body. As the asari researcher had already been contacted through an intermediary and directed to the Terminus enclave, he had likely known Shepard's location for some time. Long enough to have diverted Miranda from her mission on the pirate colony that had almost cost her her life.

She didn't resent this omission. The Illusive Man provided her with the information she required, no more, no less. If this information had not been shared, then obviously he felt that she had not needed to know it until now. She did not resent the fact that she had been captured and tortured by pirates. She had survived. She expected nothing less from herself. Had she been killed it would have demonstrated an error in judgement in the selection of her partner, an inability to complete the mission as assigned, or bad luck. Any of those were historically fatal, and would have proven her unworthy of the position she held.

She was nothing if not worthy of the position she held. The Illusive Man had not dishonored her by asking about the mission, so she wouldn't mention it either.

"The asari is the backup plan then?" She asked. Cerberus had assets on Omega, but she didn't know how willing The Illusive Man might be to expose them for this venture.

"No," she heard the ice in his glass as he took a sip of his bourbon. "She will be the one to acquire Shepard's body. With your help, of course," he added.

"T'Soni is barely an adult," she reminded, careful not to sound dissenting. "Will she be up to the task?"

A soft chuckle rose from the man behind her. "T'Soni has access to resources even we do not."

"If she chooses to avail herself of them," reminded Miranda.

"I wasn't referring solely to her familial wealth," he corrected. "Aria will provide her a level of assistance and protection that she would deny others." He drew deeply from his cigarette. "Probably," he amended.

Miranda processed the statement for a moment. "I was unaware that T'Soni and Aria had a relationship."

"They don't, not directly anyway." He paused a minute before clarifying. "Dr. T'Soni may be young, but Shepard wasn't her only guardian angel."

"It sounds like I won't be her only one either then."

"No," he confirmed. "But that doesn't mean that you should take a passive role in her protection. She'll only be able to recover Shepard if she survives, and she'll likely have value to us even beyond that."

"Her relationship with Shepard might make her sympathetic to Cerberus' cause," Miranda conceded.

"Nothing so direct," he corrected as he swirled the ice in his glass. "I was thinking more along the lines of Archimedes' lever."

Miranda waited in silence, continuing to stare out at the star, never having been invited to join him at his console. She understood the reference, but he seemingly didn't care if she did so or not. If he was concerned about her degree of understanding, he would expound, or less likely, ask if she understood what he meant. In neither case was it appropriate for her to volunteer her understanding, as the leader of Cerberus had little tolerance for small talk that he himself did not initiate.

"The ship is staffed and ready to depart," he announced, dismissing her. "You'll contact our lead agent on Omega when you arrive, but she is not to know your purpose. The team you bring with you are cleared for this information, but outside agents are not."

She nodded her acknowledgement as she spun on one heel and made for the door without another word.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Aethyta politely announced her arrival by violently kicking a chair across the room. Alaya almost fell out of her own chair in response, while Denai cooly regarded the matriarch. Aethyta was aglow in her fury.

"Where. The. Fuck. Is. She." Her voice filled the room.

Eight days. Eight fucking days it had taken her to follow the imbeciles in front of her, to track them down. Ship changes, stops on human colonies, and even one uncomfortable transit through a batarian system. After all that, here she finds them relaxing in a cafe in the Citadel, drinking tea as if they didn't have a care in the world.

She'd show them exactly how much they had to care about.

Patrons scattered as she stomped her way to their table. It was too much to hope for that they knew who she was. That might have made them move faster. It would have once anyway. Maybe Tevos was right. Maybe her reputation was too far in the past for her to trade upon as she once did. She didn't really give a shit.

Then again there was some benefit to anonymity as well. She'd learned a great deal of compromising information while standing behind a bar. It had made her a wealthy woman.

Even if it hadn't done anything for her anger issues.

She threw herself into a seat across from Alaya and Denai, piercing the former with a glare.

"Was that question too fucking much for you? Fine. Where the hell have you been?"

"Following Liara, the same as you," replied Alaya with enough deference to keep Aethyta from warping her out of her chair.

"Pretty goddess damned circuitous route, don't you think?" Asked Aethyta in disbelief. "No shuttles between here and Arcturus? I mean, I wouldn't want to travel with humans either but this was a little extreme."

"We followed the same route Liara did, Aethyta." Alaya's nervousness starting to demonstrate that the matriarch realized exactly how angry Aethyta actually was. This was no act. "We don't know what caused her to travel the route she did. We never had the opportunity to ask. She hasn't responded to any messages, and we were always one step behind her."

"And she ended up coming to the Citadel? The highest profile destination in Council Space and she was trying to keep it a secret? I'm sure her ID was tagged as soon as she hit the nebula."

"It was, Matriarch," agreed Alaya. "We had hoped to catch up with her here, but she was gone before we arrived."

"Fuckwits. So you lost her again." Aethyta's biotics flickered briefly like those of an emotional maiden. "Do you at least know what she's been doing?"

"We do know what Matriarch, just not why." Alaya seemed eager to placate Aethyta. "She's been visiting contacts, vendors, and some former confidantes of Shepard. She's been talking to those she'd met during her travels on the Normandy."

"That doesn't make any sense," refuted Aethyta. "Why go visit in person when a simple comm would do?"

"It would appear that Liara wanted secrecy." Alaya responded unnecessarily.

"Even on Noveria? They have some of the most secure comms in the galaxy." Aethya knew this to be a fact. She'd tried to break them in an attempt to keep tabs on Benezia, and had only been partially successful.

"Even a secure comm logs calls. Sometimes knowing that communication occurred is just as much of a disclosure as the content of such communication." Alaya seemed to be calming a bit, which did not please Aethyta.

"Thanks. I was stupid there for a minute." Aethyta shook her head as she glared at Alaya. "It isn't like traveling in person doesn't announce just as much of an intent at subterfuge, and it takes longer to boot. What is she doing? What is she trying to keep secret?"

"Perhaps her final destination? We still don't know where she's heading."

"Morons," replied Aethyta. "If she's traveling for fucking chats, who did she talk to here?"

A panicked look came over Alaya, as the matriarch obviously didn't want to admit that she still didn't know.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Denai spoke up. "She came to the Citadel to see Neria, Shepard's armorer," the matron interjected to both Aethyta and Alaya's surprise, "Of course she would buy armor before going to Omega, and she would trust Shepard's judgment on who to buy it from."

"Omega?" Both matriarchs replied in unison. "You couldn't fucking lead with that?" demanded Aethyta.

"The two of you seemed to be doing so well, I didn't want to interrupt the show." Denai's voice dripped with contempt.

"How dare you…" Alaya began, seemingly sure of herself for the first time during the encounter.

Aethyta ignored Alaya's response, focusing entirely on Denai. Her voice was deathly quiet. "You knew she was going to Omega. You just let her go when you could have stopped her?"

Denai shrugged, seemingly unperturbed by the implied threat. "She's the Head of House T'Soni. My loyalties are clear," she overtly glanced in Alaya's direction, "unlike others." She took a sip of her tea. "And they are no concern of yours."

"No concern…?" Aethyta felt like she was going to burst a blood vessel. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

Denai responded with a look that bordered on insolent, before it crossed the border. "Were you referring to being Liara's father, or to your somewhat sordid past?" Denai continued without giving Aethyta a chance to respond. "Of course I know who you are." She gave the matriarch a look that practically begged for violence. "And I couldn't care less. Doesn't seem like you cared all that much either."

Aethyta's wrapped her response in an almost unnatural calm. "I promised Benezia I would stay away."

"Thessia's greatest mother," taunted Denai. "Liara would have been better off without parents."

The resounding crack of the slap surprised them both. " _No one_ talks about Benezia like that!" Denai hadn't moved, even as the purple outline of Aethyta's hand slowly appeared on her face, her glare taunting the matriarch to escalate further.

" _Enough_ ," hissed Alaya, temporarily distracting Aethyta from diving headlong into another irrational act. " _We're in a public place._ "

Aethyta returned her attention to Alaya with a look that communicated how little she cared about their audience. "Fine. Let's be all civilized. For now," she turned to Denai with a _'later for you'_ look. "How did you know who she came to see?"

"She told me."

Now Alaya interrupted before Aethyta could continue. "You've been in contact? You never told me?"

"As I said," Denai was obviously working to maintain her own calm demeanor. "My loyalties are clear. Liara received information about what happened to the Normandy, and she felt compelled to act upon it. She did not want to be accompanied, but also thought it prudent that someone know where she was." She shrugged again, this time without the derision. "So she told me."

"Why you?" Asked Aethyta. "What makes you special? What are you to Liara?"

"Her tie to Shepard," Alaya responded for her. "Denai was Shepard's _princeps_ , and her only acolyte."

"I _am_ her _princeps_ ," corrected Denai.

"Shepard's dead," spat Alaya, "and she nearly took Liara's sanity with her."

"Her sanity is fine. She's _hurting_. You don't understand how difficult it is for her to let Shepard go." Denai looked from one to the other, looking for comprehension. "This is something she needs to do. The way you're behaving now is why she couldn't come to you before she left."

"It was not your right to make that decision. If Liara couldn't have been persuaded against this fool's errand, then Eliata would have assigned a protection detail, or at least an honor guard." Alaya was much more sure of herself in reprimanding Denai than facing an angry Aethyta.

"She expressed her wishes to me, and I obeyed. Had she communicated the same desires to you, you would have subverted them. Is it any surprise that she confided in me, and not the _seneschal_ of her House? You question her every decision, including her choice in bondmate." Denai's emotion was beginning to show. "She knows you don't respect her or her wishes. Why would you ever think she would confide in you? What did you expect her to do? Sarah loved her in a way she'd never experienced before."

Aethyta looked back and forth between the pair. "By Athame's blessed blue ass you two are idiots." She addressed Alaya. "We'll talk more about this later. I already told you that you needed to fix this, and now I find that it's worse than ever. She _is_ House T'Soni. If you can't come to terms with that then you need to get out and hide somewhere I'll never find you." She pointer her finger at Denai. "You. Dumbass. You seem pretty calm about letting Liara go traipsing off into the Terminus, which is a pretty idiotic move, I don't care how upset she is. You've obviously been spying on her though. I respect that. Do you have a plan, or is this where I get angry again?"

"Letting her go wasn't my first choice, but what was I supposed to do? She needed support, not a confrontation," Denai explained. "It is a stupid move, but like I said, she's hurting. She needed to do this, no matter how stupid it is. It was either allow her to go so she can work through her grief, or try to prevent it and we might lose her forever."

"Now you sound pissed at her."

"I'm pissed at Shepard!"

"Eh?" Aethyta was finding it difficult to follow Denai's train of thought.

"Fine, I'm angry at Liara too," continued Denai before Aethyta could ask for clarification. "But how did you expect her to handle this?" Aethyta caught the angry look the matron threw at Alaya before continuing. "Did you think she would come to you you for comfort? She cried on her doctor, but wouldn't show any emotion to you - because she knew you didn't want to see it. It isn't like she's not already made to feel like an intruder at her own estate. You don't know her. Neither of you do. Her bond was severed, and she felt Shepard die! If she can do one last thing for her bondmate, she's going to do it."

' _You fucking human,'_ thought Aethyta. _'It isn't enough that you got your hooks in my girl, but you've managed to light a torch in your fucking acolyte too.'_

"It appears that Liara is not the only one who's grieving," said Alaya, surprising Aethyta by giving voice to their shared thoughts. "And I also believe I now understand why you felt a need to assist Liara in her endeavor."

"You don't understand anything," Denai coldly responded.

"Be that as it may," continued Alaya as if Denai hadn't spoken. "It is possible that if we talk to this armor merchant, they can tell us Liara's next steps."

"That thought had occurred to me," Denai rose from her chair. "That's why she's waiting for us now."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Earlier…

Liara did what she could to not draw attention to herself as she progressed towards her destination. The maiden remained close to the walls, kept her head down, and avoided eye contact with those she encountered where she could. The effort left her both exhausted, yet fidgety with nervous energy. She was very aware of the seemingly run down nature of this particular thoroughfare. She hadn't been before, she remembered.

The last time she'd been in this part of the wards, Shepard had been at her side. Everything had been so different then. She remembered having to hurry to keep up with the commander's purposeful strides. There'd been no time for sightseeing, despite the seeming adventurous nature of the outing. She'd been very frustrated with Shepard that day, despite Shepard's obvious enjoyment during their excursion. She would give anything for Shepard to be able to frustrate her like that again.

But she refused to let herself think about that now.

She'd hoped to be finished by now, and well on her way to Omega. She'd found that everything was taking longer than it should have. She felt burdened by the blackness she carried within her, slowing every movement. Even breathing was an effort. Her hands still trembled unless she focused on them, forcing her traitorous fingers to obey her wishes.

She's learned that anger helped. Anger would push back the darkness and give her strength. When she was angry she had purpose.

But her anger terrified her now. She walled it off, kept it away.

And the darkness was always waiting.

She blinked as she found herself standing in front of the turian's shop. She pulled herself together as best she could, and let herself in.

She'd called ahead, and Neria was expecting her.

"Hello again," the turian greeted from behind the counter with the same informality Liara remembered from her last visit. "I was surprised to hear from you." She shook her head. "I'll say this, Shepard keeps breaking new ground. I've never had to replace a Colossus X before."

Liara briefly closed her eyes at the mention of Shepard, and of the armor that was a gift from the spectre. "Unfortunately it could not be repaired."

"Yeah, you'd said that," replied Neria as she laid out a bluish-purple, orange and white asarioid armor of a design that Liara was unfamiliar with. "I still would have like to have taken a crack at it. I've restored a lot of armor over the years." She looked Liara up and down. "You obviously survived whatever took it out. You must be tougher than you look," she commented.

Liara let the slight pass. "It wasn't damaged in combat," she clarified. "It was accidental damage. The torso was ruptured from here," Liara indicated her neckline, "Starting at the helmet ring, and down" her finger drew a line to her abdomen. "The tear was several centimeters wide. It could not have been restored to pressure integrity."

Neria's look was pure horror. "What the hell did that to a Colossus? Those things are practically indestructible. I've had clients whose Colossus held together long enough under fire for them to replace a shield generator. What did you do, drop a shuttle on it?"

Liara just lowered her head, looking at her hands as she nervously rubbed them together.

"Holy fuck," the turian whispered, Liara having accidentally relayed how her armor had been destroyed.

Liara looked up at that, and gave the armorer a small shrug. "That's why I needed something right away."

"Um, OK." Neira straightened the armor in front of her instead of pursuing the matter. "Like I said on the comm, I don't have another light Colossus in your size, but I do have this. It's the Regent from Kyaius Manufacturing on Imeria. They're new, trying to break into the personal protection space. It's high quality, reasonable price. It stacks up well against the Rosenkov Titan. Not that you'll need it, but if it sees combat they'll cover any repair in exchange for endorsement."

Liara looked it over. "It is not exactly form fitting."

"No, but there's a lot of protection in that thickness. It's no heavier than your Colossus, and I've already modified it to your measurements."

The maiden took in the rather gaudy armor. Perhaps in Omega it would be better to stand out than to try and blend in. Shepard had had a certain arrogance that made others unwilling to challenge her. She would never have worn armor like this, but perhaps it might have the same effect.

"Fine," she sighed. After all, would she ever need armor again after this? She waved her omni-tool over the turian's terminal. "Please have it sent to the merchant docks, bay two seventy seven."

Neria nodded. "Pleasure doing business with you. Tell Shepard I said hi."

Liara turned and exited the shop without another word.

* * *

 **A/N:**

As always everyone, thanks for reading.

Responses to some queries:

No, we will not be jumping to Shepard's resurrection in the immediate future. I expect Asunder to be about "Obligations" length, which at my current word count per chapter means at least ten chapters. Of course, I'm already one chapter longer than my notes accounted for at this point, to I may overshoot.

Shepard's journey post-resurrection may be the beginning of another story. Asunder will possiblyend at that point, with Liara's chapters going there, or possibly both stories may run in tandem until LotSB. I haven't decided yet. To point out the obvious, that means that Asunder will cover two years of time in-story. (For reference, Fragments covered 12 weeks, four of which were spent on the Normandy and not shown.)

No, I don't intend to show Omega. That story is in Redemption and it's convoluted enough without me adding my complexity to it. I'll have some post-Omega clearing up though.

Yes, we will see Liara interact (a little) with Joker (reference to Secrets in Drabbles). I'm not sure how it will play out yet.

Feel free to keep any questions coming!

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Pre Redemption comic

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero / Busily Dead

As always, feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	5. Confusion

**Summary:**

After Omega, Liara is at her wit's end, and unsure what to do next.

 **Reference:**

Immediately after Mass Effect: Redemption, which doesn't find Liara to be redeemed in the slightest

* * *

The darkness calling her had been like nothing she'd ever felt, and it had been so easy to give herself to it. She'd so completely _wanted_ to give herself to it.

But even despair had its limits. Especially when anger burned beneath it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a rumbling boom that shook Liara all the way to her toes. The noise was loud enough to push her to the effort of prying open one sticky eyelid. Not that she really wanted to. Evening rain was common in Nos Astra this time of year, but thunderstorms were more of a rarity. This one seemed fierce, almost angry, and it demanded her attention. The rain beat against her window with an intensity that seemed to illustrate the storm's resolve that Liara not go back to sleep. The maiden might be strong willed, but even she couldn't outstubborn the weather.

Maybe it was a sign.

She sighed as she raised her arm over her face and activated her omni-tool. She squinted as it took her eyes a moment to adjust and bring the display into focus. The orange interface was annoyingly bright in contrast to the gloom outside. She ignored the multiple alerts and message notifications as her gummy eyes centered on the date.

She allowed her arm to drop to the bed. It just wasn't worth the effort to hold it up any longer.

Four days.

It had been four days since she'd docked at Illium, a planet uniquely suited for the purpose of making both people and things disappear. Four days since she'd sequestered herself in this hotel suite, the hotel she'd chosen in the human quarter of the city being a monument to anonymity.

Four days that she'd spent mostly in this bed. "Ego non somnus," Shepard had said to her once, distractedly, when Liara had gently reminded the commander that she needed more rest to be at her best against Saren. Liara's translator had been off at the time, so she hadn't immediately understood the Latin phrase, "I cannot sleep." It had been a rare glimpse of Sarah's education, and the woman who wore the uniform. It had surprised Liara at the time, as it was in such opposition to Shepard's usual modest "I'm just a grunt" demeanor. She'd never asked if Shepard had meant she that she was unwilling, or unable to sleep. Now she'd never know.

Liara, in contrast, had been very much able to sleep. She'd been exhausted when she'd arrived. Exhausted both mentally and physically, with a fatigue that seemed to drain her very soul.

She's waited now for four days. Waiting to see what was going to happen next. Four days was long enough for her to transform feeling sorry for herself into what could only be described as an odd numbness. Four days that should have been long enough for the ache in her heart to start to lessen.

It hadn't.

She's come to Illium directly from Lazarus Station, simply walking away from her stolen ship after she'd docked. She'd ignored all requests from Nos Astra control for official registration during her approach. The papers on board were likely forged anyway, so there was really no point. She also hadn't paid any docking fees, allowing herself to take some small enjoyment from the panicked voices of Nos Astra control as her intention to ignore their direction became clear.

Instead, she'd simply left the hatch open as she walked down the gangway, not sparing the ship a backward glance. She'd slung the small bag that contained her few articles of clothing over one shoulder as she made her away from the docks. The bag easily carried everything she needed until she could replace the Cerberus supplied offerings with those of her own choosing.

With any luck the ship was impounded or stolen by now. This was Illium after all, and ridding herself of the ship was one reason she'd chosen to come here.

Now it seemed that she might have to start working on those other reasons after all.

She didn't want to face the future. Her spontaneous journey to Omega had been as much to distract herself from her misery as to rescue whatever remained of her love.

In both regards, her mission had been successful. Her focus had been so completely on retrieving Shepard's body that her single-mindedness had temporarily masked the pain she felt at her loss.

It also seemed to have left no room for subtlety, discretion, or judgement. She'd checked into the hotel using her real name, and paid for it from a T'Soni account. She'd come to Illium in the ship she'd stolen from Tazzik, the Shadow Broker's hitman. Upon reflection she'd expected to be followed from the Broker's agents, or possibly Tazzik himself given that she'd effectively left a trail a kilometer wide. And he wasn't her only concern. A visitation from one of Aria's minions wasn't beyond the realm of possibility, given the tone of the brief interaction she'd had with the pirate queen. The Blue Suns probably wanted a word with her for the mercenaries left dead in a back alley of Omega. She wouldn't even be surprised if the Nos Astra portmaster had come calling, seeking her pound of flesh. She'd accumulated no small number of enemies in a very brief amount of time. Shepard would have been proud. She had already decided that she wasn't going to go quietly, no matter who found her first.

Surprisingly, it was a resolution that she hadn't had to test. It was all very anticlimactic.

Lightning flashed brightly outside, again destroying her train of thought, as the contents of the bedroom were thrown into stark relief. Another booming crash followed, perhaps even more powerful than the one that had forced her into this undesired wakefulness.

She sighed again as she gave into the inevitable, rubbing her eyes and wincing at the pain. Not good. She glanced at the glass on her nightstand, still half full of water from two days prior. She'd allowed herself to become dehydrated. She also hadn't eaten since, well since Lazarus Station, and the meal provided as part of The Illusive Man's self serving hospitality.

Shepard would never have allowed her to do this to herself, she reflected. The thought prompted a wave of guilt to rival the misery she already felt.

Liara had been notoriously poor at self care as a child. Her single-mindedness often caused her to neglect exercise, food, and even rest. Shiala, or whomever her mother had assigned to her supervision, would regularly have to verify that the T'Soni heir slept and ate.

As both a student and as a researcher, her habits had not improved. She'd often awakened at her desk after falling asleep during a marathon study session, or realized her hunger only when experiencing the pangs brought about by her body's objection to her disregard.

None of that had been an issue since joining the Normandy. Shepard, no _Sarah_ , cared for everyone aboard. Yet even before they had become close, the commander had seemed to make it a personal mission to see that Liara's needs were taken care of. Shepard would visit often, and when she did she usually came with tea or a reminder to join the crew for the next meal. Shepard would have made a good parent, she'd thought at the time. Now she realized that she'd subconsciously hoped she might be the other parent.

Now it seemed she would need get used to depending on herself again. As much as she ever had, at any rate.

She shook her head to clear the memories, revisiting her surprise to find herself still alive. She was relieved to find that her surprise wasn't tempered with disappointment. The darkness she felt within her wasn't that dark at least. It seemed that she would have to get down to the business of what to do with the rest of her life, no matter how long she might have until the Reapers arrived.

The question now seemed to be what to do first.

A part of her wanted Miranda Lawson dead for tempting her with irrational hope.

She didn't honestly believe that Shepard could be brought back to life. Especially not after seeing the cryo-preserved remains of her beloved bondmate. She'd agreed to help Cerberus out of a sense of devotion, not yearning. The Illusive Man had told her that Shepard should be returned to her people out of respect for human traditions, and for her usefulness as a symbol. As much as she'd disagreed with his stated purpose, the idea of leaving Shepard's body to the collectors and the Shadow Broker was a thought that she had instinctively rejected.

But her resolve had been sorely tested once she'd arrived at Lazarus Station. Instead of delivering Shepard to Cerberus, she'd found herself wishing that she'd simply taken Shepard home. It would have felt right to release Shepard of her burdens, the same way that a few months before they had together released Benezia. It might not have given her closure, but it wouldn't have left her in this emotional limbo brought on by Lawson's improbable assertions.

Still, her desires were moot. Lawson was out of her reach.

There were also other priorities, if she could bring herself to care.

She'd promised Admiral Hackett her assistance in furthering the Alliance's Prothean research. He'd never actually stated she had to do it from Arcturus. Perhaps Lieutenant Tremblay could arrange for her to have access to the information she needed remotely. The idea of returning to research held appeal for her.

House T'Soni required some direction, particularly if she intended to stay away. Given the Conclave's responses to her actions on Thessia, staying away might be the best option she could choose.

Feron had proven himself a worthy ally, and if he lived, deserved her efforts to free him. The Shadow Broker was a formidable enemy, but her example was Shepard, who had first faced Saren, and then the Reapers.

She tried not to think about how that had turned out.

' _I am Liara T'Soni, daughter of Matriarch Benezia.'_ It had become almost a mantra of late. It allowed her to draw motivation as she alternated between grief, apathy, and rage.

She moved to the edge of the bed and sat up, wincing as her muscles complained at the motion. A dark bruise ran the entire length of her left thigh, an unwelcome reminder of the fight on Alington. She'd been stupid, reckless even. Although she'd been strengthened by the combined power of her rage and her severed bond, she'd charged into battle with an unreliable ally at her side. She was lucky she hadn't been killed. She needed to stop behaving as if Shepard was still protecting her.

Or maybe she didn't. She still wasn't sure that it mattered.

She pushed the sheets away, grimacing as the pebbled flakes of skin she'd shed into the sheets slid down her body. She reached for the glass of water at the reminder, and emptied it. Her stomach replied with a dissatisfied gurgle to indicate that water wasn't enough. It wanted more.

She stood slowly, her aching joints crying out after days of disuse. _'Food first,'_ she thought. It was a necessity really, not a decision.

Food unfortunately meant presenting herself to the public. For that, she needed a shower. She started towards the washroom, the slight limp from her injury becoming less noticeable with each step.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Soap, water, and medi-gel left Liara feeling more like herself.

It was with a mild renewal of purpose and a ravenous hunger that she followed her nose to the hotel's restaurant.

It was later than the usual dinner hour, so there was plenty of seating available. The few dozen patrons were mostly human, although a cursory glance did reveal one asari couple, a salarian dining with a human, as well as an asari and a turian each alone at the bar.

The few sets of eyes that glanced at her as she was being seated seemed to take more note of her dress than her species. The science jumpsuit, one of many provided by Cerberus to tide her over until she could replace the belongings left on Omega, was at least one or two steps below the status of her fellow diners. If only they knew.

She ended up being seated near the party that included the salarian. Her server offered a menu as well as a drink card, despite the fact that she obviously wasn't dressed for a socializing. She glanced at the menu before turning back to the server.

"Only dinner?" She asked, using the human word for an evening mealtime.

The man shrugged in return. "This is Illium, Miss. We're full service twenty five hours a day. We mostly follow Earth North American dining customs as that's where the hotel chain is based. Would you prefer something regional? Ethnic? Nonhuman?"

"Do you have a breakfast menu?" she asked hopefully.

"It isn't exotic, Miss. You might be better with a steak."

"It doesn't need to be exotic. I'd be happy with bacon, eggs, and oatmeal."

That prompted a grin. "Not many asari order oatmeal. Toast?"

"Please," she nodded. "And tea." Her stomach growled as she looked up apologetically, "Perhaps two of everything?"

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Liara returned to her suite an entirely different person than the one who had shuffled out less than an hour before. One overly large breakfast had gone a long way towards restoring reserves depleted on Omega and Alington.

And then some.

She tossed a glance at the bedroom before dismissing it immediately. She'd slept enough. Too much. She was driven by a need to _do_ something.

She paced the main room for a moment, not sure what she was looking for, but unable to shake the feeling of being contained. She had too much nervous energy to settle herself. She turned on the vidscreen, local news providing background noise lest the silence overwhelm her. She pulled her bag from the wardrobe on the way to the washroom.

Her hands were shaking again as the applied a cleansing paste to her toothbrush. She managed to get enough on by sheer force of will before jamming it into her mouth with enough force to hurt.

She glared at her reflection as she scrubbed her teeth brutally. She didn't mind the pain as she brushed hard enough that the foam started to take on a purple tinge. It helped her focus.

' _You idiot,'_ she thought. _'You're the head of a Thessian Great House, and look at you now. Weak. Useless. Moping over someone who would only have lived for another handful of decades at best. A human might as well be a salarian for as short as they live.'_

She rolled her eyes in disgust at the disheveled looking maiden before her. _'And a_ soldier _? Really? An_ academic _wasn't good enough? Someone with whom you could connect on an intellectual level? Mother would have been_ so _proud that I brought a human warrior home to Thessia. That I BONDED with one. She might as well have been a merc.'_ Another voice tried to remind her that although they weren't matched in education, Shepard had demonstrated herself to be Liara's intellectual equal in many ways. That Benezia would have grown to love the red-haired human and the way that she doted on her daughter. Liara ignored it all.

' _Even Feron stepped up,'_ she thought. _'Turned on the Shadow Broker without a second thought when I needed him to. Where you were you then Shepard? WHERE WERE YOU?'_ Again, the voice was there to remind her that now Feron was gone too, sacrificing himself to save another, just like Shepard had.

She washed out her mouth, drops of blood following the foam into the sink. She ignored it as she slammed her toiletries into her bag. She'd had enough of this place. She couldn't even remember why she'd taken refuge here. She looked around at the obviously human style fixtures, familiar due to their similarity to the Normandy, and it was all she could do not to spit again. She'd had enough of Illium too, for that matter. "Omega with fancy shoes," as they say.

She'd been to Omega now. She hadn't been impressed with it, or its arrogant ruler. Omega was low on her list of possible destinations, but she had no desire to return home for any longer than she needed. She had seen Shepard's visions. If it was her destiny to watch the Reapers burn worlds, she didn't want to watch them burn hers. Maybe she'd be best served settling onto a world she hated. That way she could revel in the Reapers' destructive force when she reminded the galaxy _'I told you so.'_

She spun, pulled from her thoughts by the voices on the vid.

She sealed her bag as she left the washroom, stopping short as she stared into Shepard's dazzling green eyes. Each eye was half the size of Liara's head on the massive screen.

"…Council Spectre Shepard, pictured here, was declared officially deceased today by the Systems Alliance Navy," the maiden news anchor reported in a bored tone. "Shepard held the rank of commander in that institution, and is survived by her declared bondmate, Dr. Liara T'Soni."

Liara started shaking as the scroll across the bottom of the screen listed Shepard's exploits.

"Shepard, an asari spectre and citizen of the Republics, will be released on the 11th of Conixor, at the Presidium Amphitheater. Services will be presided over by Citadel Councilor Tevos, acting in her capacity as a representative of the Conclave of Matriarchs, Shepard having been a member of the peerage. Citadel Councilor Anderson is also expected to speak."

Shepard's image disappeared from the screen to be replaced by the maiden and another newscaster.

"There has been a great deal of speculation as to the reason Councilor Tevos has chosen to preside over…" The voice was cut off by Liara's scream as she threw her bag into the vidscreen, shattering it in a shower of glass.

She stood there breathing heavily as she watched sparks fall gently into the debris.

When it became apparent that she hadn't set the room on fire, she took a deep breath to collect herself, calming for the first time since returning to her suite. Back straight, shoulders squared, she started for the door. _'Now I have somewhere to go,'_ she thought.

The remains of the vidscreen fell off the wall as the door opened, causing to look back in time to see the remains of the screen collapse onto her bag.

' _Cerberus probably had a tracking device in it anyway,'_ she rationalized as she let the door close behind her.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

The journey to the Citadel had been an uneventful one.

Transports between Tasale and Widow were frequent and inexpensive. She'd had no difficulty booking immediate passage despite the lateness of the hour. One transit to Minos Wasteland and another to the Serpent Nebula found her strolling the presidium less than twenty five hours after her departure.

Her first order of business had been to check into another hotel, so that her purchases would have a destination. She'd arrived with nothing but credits and expected to not only to have to outfit herself, but then acquire admission to Shepard's release at what would no doubt be an exorbitant cost. The thought grated on her, even though she understood that by not organizing a service herself, both the Council and the Alliance would have free reign to memorialize Shepard to their own purposes.

That was why she was surprised when the first thing to arrive at her room was an invitation to attend the event as a guest of the Consort, in her private suite.

One problem solved.

Liara stepped lightly as she passed her escort and entered Sha'ira's suite, grateful that the private entrance had allowed her to avoid the crowd.

The consort's invitation turned out to be a gift from the Goddess. Attending the memorial would have been a much more difficult task than Liara had originally anticipated. Gaining access to one of twenty thousand available seats when nearly thirteen million survivors of the Battle fo the Citadel wanted to pay their respects would have been both expensive and complicated.

Not surprisingly, a significant number of the attendees were human. From her location over the crowd Liara estimated that the nearly a third of the people below her wore Alliance blue. Impressive, considering that humanity only made up fifteen percent of the Citadel population. Alliance recruiters had done their job well, portraying Shepard as the poster child of military service. An untimely death at the hands of a cowardly foe had likely only increased the number of humans desiring to serve.

Liara shook her head at the thought as she passed several of Sha'ira's household while making her way to her seat. She nodded recognition to Nelyna as she passed, one of the few members of the Consort's court that she knew on sight.

She spied Sha'ira seated at the overlook, extending from the suite over the crowd. There was an empty seat next to her that Liara suspected was her own. She'd nearly reached the consort when she realized the other two asari seated alongside Sha'ira were Denai and a matron she didn't know.

"Goddess," she muttered under her breath. She'd hoped to avoid interacting with anyone from House T'Soni during what should be a brief stay at the Citadel.

It was too much to hope for, she realized now.

Tevos had reached out the moment Liara's transport arrived in the Nebula with an offer for her to speak at Shepard's release. Liara had been cordial, but she'd had no choice but to decline.

Between grief and anger, she hadn't trusted herself enough to accept.

Tevos had probably informed Sha'ira of her answer, hence the timely invitation.

Upon reflection, it only made sense that Sha'ira would invite Denai as well. Given the circumstances of their last encounter the consort probably invited Denai before she even knew Liara would attend. She considered herself lucky that Alaya wasn't present as well, although she could probably thank Sha'ira's perceptive nature for that. She wouldn't have wanted to instigate an altercation at Shepard's release, and the way she felt about her _seneschal,_ she wasn't certain that she wouldn't have pushed Alaya over the railing onto the crowd below if given opportunity.

The audience was hushed as Liara dropped unceremoniously into her seat. The silence of the number of asari present was enough to guide those who weren't familiar with Thessian rites of release.

She nodded to Sha'ira on her left, accepting the consort's comforting hand. She turned to acknowledge Denai as well and the horrified look she received in return made her look down at herself.

Her dress was a formal one, suitable for a Head of House to appear in public, with a high collar and luxuriously rich fabric. Her gloves were form fitted to her elegant hands, without a spot on them. A quick glance confirmed there wasn't a spot anywhere on her, with nothing marring the stylish teal.

Teal.

' _Fuck,'_ she thought. 'Goddess' simply not strong enough to express the dismay she felt at the realization that she wasn't wearing white to her own bondmate's release. It had never even _occurred_ to her. Her dress was a near duplicate to the one worn by Shepard the first time they'd been to Armali. She hadn't realized that until this moment either.

Denai immediately leaned over.

"Peeress," she began.

"Not now Denai," replied Liara in a curt tone.

Denai looked like she might disobey, before pulling back.

Liara's head remained down, no longer caring about the audience, or Tevos, who was now walking onto the stage. Her gaze was focused on her hands, on her teal gloves, as she tried to understand what it meant.

She'd agonized over her dress for Benezia's release and her corresponding ascension, driving her staff to distraction. It had taken her hours to decide that her appearance was acceptable to appear before the guests at the estate. Today she was sitting alongside the consort, in full display if the entire Citadel, and she felt no concern over her appearance. And the dress? She'd bought the dress only yesterday, realizing now that Shepard would have approved of both color and cut.

She feared she knew what it meant, and it only reinforced her anger at Lawson.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sha'ira insisted on waiting for Tevos before departing, eliminating any hope Liara might have had of making an unseen departure.

There were reporters waiting outside of course, but none closed in until Tevos gave a subtle nod.

"Councilor," a young Turian woman addressed them first. "The first human Spectre is dead. What does that mean for the future? Does this prove the humans don't have what it takes to last as a Spectre? Do you plan to nominate another human?"

Liara was just happy not to have been the target of the first question. Her response would not have reflected well on her. Spectres held no interest for her now, although she did understand Shepard's frustration with the press like she never had before.

"Commander Shepard fulfilled every expectation that the Council would have of a member of the Spectre Corps. She succeeded admirably in her mission, despite numerous obstacles in her way, including the Council itself. The continued existence of the Citadel is a monument to her success." Tevos couldn't have given a more politically correct answer if she'd tried.

"That being said, I do not believe that her abilities were a reflection of her race. When I nominated her, it was a reflection if the person she was, not for political gain."

Liara forced herself to maintain an expressionless face at that last. No one else gathered around them believed the statement either, even as they also had the sense not to refute Tevos' claim.

"That's not specifically a no, Councilor," the reporter pressed. "Does that mean that you don't plan to nominate another human?"

Tevos' tone was chillier this time. "When I nominate another individual, it will be because I believe that they are the best choice for the Spectres. If you are specifically interested in the next potential human nomination, you may wish to consider speaking with Councilor Anderson. He may have thoughts on the subject."

There was silence in the reporters for a moment. This was a rare opportunity, but also one that could easily be shattered with the wrong question, the wrong comment. Eventually a bearded human spoke up.

"Councilor, if I may, there have already been reports of sightings of Commander Shepard in both the Traverse, and the Terminus." He waited for a response from Tevos before continuing. "Given that her body was not recovered, would you care to comment?"

That had been the question that Liara had been expecting, given her knowledge of Lawson's plans. Planting the seeds of doubt was a small but important part of the Cerberus operative's project. Shepard couldn't just rise whole from the ground. An actual resurrection was not something that the galactic public at large would easily accept.

She certainly couldn't accept it.

Keeping such doubt alive would be easy. Shepard was a Spectre, after all. Secret missions, even long term ones, were not beyond the realm of possibility for a Council operative. "Fake your own death" was such a common occurrence among agents in deep cover that it passed the test of plausibility. The fact that the Normandy had been destroyed, and several of her crew killed, would only cause those who believed in conspiracies to give credence to such reported sightings. It could be seen as serving to reinforce the gravity of whatever mission that Shepard might be on.

If only it were true.

"I have no reason to comment on what appears to be wish fulfillment, or idle speculation." Tevos' response was the coldest one yet. "I would point out that it would be highly unlikely that there would be a release such as the one I just witnessed, attended by the Commander's own bondmate, if Shepard were alive."

The eyes of the reporters moved to Liara as one.

"Privacy," she said instantly, before so much as a single question could be voiced. She had no intention of assisting with Cerberus' misdirection, or hindering it. If they were not going to keep her informed of their actions, then she would be equally reticent.

The reporter's options having diminished by one, Liara watched as they collectively disregarded Denai as newsworthy, decided that public questioning of Sha'ira was ill-advised, and returned their attention to the Councilor.

Another human was the next to speak. Liara recognized her as Emily Wong, the reporter that Shepard had worked with during their pursuit of Saren.

"Councilor Tevos, Emily Wong with Alliance News Network," Ms. Wong's introduction was more formal than the others, leading Liara to conclude that she didn't expect an answer to her question. "Commander Shepard claimed that the geth at The Battle of the Citadel were being lead by another race of sentient machines called Reapers. Although initial Alliance responses seemed to support that position, they, like the Council, now claim that the Commander was mistaken, and that the Geth acted alone. How would you explain the Alliance response?"

This time Tevos' response was warm, almost inviting. "Ms. Wong, I believe that any questions about the Alliance interpretation of events would best be asked of Councilor Anderson."

"Councilor Anderson has denied any knowledge of inconsistency in the Alliance response."

"Then there is little I could add to that. I have no direct knowledge of the intricacies of Systems Alliance governance."

"Don't you find it interesting that the Alliance modified their position only after Captain Anderson was named Councilor?"

Tevos actually smiled now. "Privacy," she replied.

Wong had obviously known it was coming, and was likely hoping for an on camera denial as much as anything else. She offered the Councilor a curt nod, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Tevos having invoked Privacy, the remaining journalists knew that their opportunity had passed, and they cleared the area, allowing the foursome to continue their journey back to the Presidium.

"I was surprised you took questions at all," said Liara. "They could not have expected that you would actually give them any information not officially released."

Tevos turned to address the maiden at her side. "Sometimes the best thing we can do to support our Spectres is to not draw attention to them," she replied. "For now, I will be the focus of the next few news cycles, not the questionable authenticity of Shepard's release ceremony." The councilor eyes burned at the comment.

With that, Tevos turned to Sha'ira. "Consort? I believe you were going to join me for tea?"

The councilor gave Liara and Denai each a nod before taking Sha'ira's arm and leaving them behind.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero / Busily Dead

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	6. Discard

**Summary:**

Liara burns a bridge while Miranda does the same

 **Reference:**

Immediately follows chapter 5, contains set up for "Secrets" in the drabbles

* * *

Liara watched as Tevos strode away, standing tall as she confidently entered the crowded Presidium. Her measured stride was unimpeded by the throngs, protected as she was by the invisible barrier surrounding Sha'ira. The throngs were never a problem for the Consort. No one would come close to barring her way, if for no other reason than for fear of eliciting her displeasure. Even those who would likely never have opportunity to avail themselves of her services held out enough hope to treat her with deference.

Even the mythos surrounding the consort was powerful.

Liara shook her head as she watched them go. Tevos had been indirectly probing with her responses to the journalists, but Liara still had no idea how much, if anything, that the councilor already knew about her activities in the Traverse. Tevos had practically called her out with the comment about the authenticity of Shepard's release ceremony, but so far events had done nothing but support the truth that Sarah had in fact died.

Sha'ira herself could attest that Liara had experienced Shepard's death. Not that the Consort would share what she experienced in the meld, but she was well able to verify the commander's demise. Tevos' only clue to the contrary was Liara's own behavior, including her lack of appropriate mourning attire. Fortunately, anything that appeared out of character could reasonably be attributed to her suspect mental state. Admittedly, Liara wasn't behaving in a way that would suggest that she was making progress towards recovering from her loss.

On the other hand, Tevos did have resources that rivaled Liara's own. Liara had no illusion to the fact that at the minimum her journey to Omega was known to Tevos, if not the entire council. Why she'd gone was the mostly likely question to which the councilor sought an answer. Liara doubted that Tevos would have remained so indirect in her commentary if she were aware of the other locales that the maiden had visited after Omega in her quest to retrieve Shepard.

Especially if Tevos were somehow aware of the irrational hope that Liara had been unable to completely suppress.

Liara hoped she wasn't. Granted, Tevos had demonstrated an inordinate amount of support for Shepard. She had nominated her as a potential spectre, after all. However, approval did not extend to all of humanity, and definitely not so far as to endorse an avowed human extremist group.

If Tevos were aware that Liara had had dealings with Cerberus, and in what form those dealings had taken, Liara might find House T'Soni itself was no longer in the councilor's good graces.

Denai's subtle movement to capture her attention pulled Liara from her thoughts. _'No,'_ she thought. Liara still wasn't ready for that discussion.

Liara cast a quick glance in her companion's direction, signaling her answer with a small shake of her head. Then she turned away and started down the passage in the opposite direction than the one taken by Tevos and Sha'ira. She was done here. Her goal was to get to the ship and away from the Citadel as quickly as possible.

Her desire for discourse foiled for the moment, Denai fell in beside her. The pair set a good pace through the crowd, albeit less easily than the councilor and Consort had moments before. Liara's impatient glare was a less effective tool in parting the multitude than the Consort's renown. Liara ignored Denai beside her for now. Denai wasn't going anywhere. She knew that the matron could wait until they left the Citadel before discussing the events since her departure from Arcturus.

For the moment Liara was willing to take advantage of the fact that Denai was both patient and obedient. With luck she would continue to maintain her silence until they were out of public view. This was not going be a comfortable discussion for either of them. At least Liara had an advantage. She was Head of House, and Denai, while someone to whom Liara now owed so very much, was _princeps,_ and sworn to fealty. Liara hoped that it wouldn't come to just that. She would prefer that Denai accept Liara's decision to keep her own counsel without being ordered to do so. Denai would never agree with her reasoning.

But then, Liara knew things Denai didn't.

Liara also wanted to ensure that Denai never found out about them.

 _That_ was going to be difficult, and it would take her down a path she'd prefer not to tread, one paved with secrets and lies. Deceit was not of Liara's strengths. That was one of the largest reasons that she'd avoided following Benezia into the arena of governmental policy. Deception made her profoundly uncomfortable.

But now she could see no other recourse. It was a skill she would simply have to develop.

In any event, she had no intention of actually disclosing the location of the commander's body. Shepard had made no secret of her feelings about Cerberus or their stated objectives. That would leave Denai with few options if the matron felt obligated to continue to act as an agent of Shepard's will. Liara's greatest fear was that Denai might try to intervene to prevent the goals of Project Lazarus. There was no question that Denai would be horrified to know Liara had handed Shepard over to the subversive human organization without any kind of assurances.

But what was she supposed to have done? Negotiate? Ask the consent of her family and friends? Resurrection wasn't the kind of thing that came with guarantees. This was Liara's choice, and hers alone. She was going to protect the secret of Shepard's fate for as long as she could. So long as there was any chance at all, the maiden would keep Cerberus' secret and give that horrid Lawson woman the time she needed.

Secrecy was Shepard's only defense. Lazarus Station wasn't exactly a mobile asset, and although Liara was under no delusion that it was undefended, it was obviously a research facility. The memory of fallen soldiers were treated with dignity and reverence. It was almost a universal behavior, no matter what species. There was no way Lazarus Station could stand against the might of the Council, or even the Alliance, if either group were to come to believe that Shepard's memory were in some way being defiled, her form desecrated.

Liara simply had to be sure to give no indication that Shepard was anything more than a memory to her, a chapter in her life that was now complete.

Unfortunately, that was where Liara's resolution came into conflict with known facts. There was no readily believable way to explain the fact that she hadn't come home with Sarah's remains. Given how quickly she had returned, Denai would have assumed Liara's expedition was a success. Anything less and Liara would have continued her search until all possible hope had been exhausted.

So, where were Sarah's remains? Not here, obviously. The Alliance had feted an empty casket. Nor had she been placed with the remains of her human family on Mindoir. She hadn't been released on Thessia, where anyone who knew the pair would have expected Liara to have insisted that Shepard be released, regardless of the desires of others.

Liara almost smiled at the thought. She was very much aware that the members of the House considered stubbornness to be her defining characteristic. Just like it had been Benezia's. It was no wonder that she and her mother had come into conflict so early, and so often. In this case it was complimentary, if not to her benefit. No one would believe that Liara would fail in her quest to retrieve Sarah's remains, if retrieving them were at all possible.

She almost stumbled at the thought, causing Denai to reach out a steadying hand. She _had_ failed Sarah, of course. The commander's death was a testament to how she'd failed her bondmate.

An grateful nod to Denai as she pressed on. A monument on Alchera, perhaps? The commander interred with the members of the crew lost in the attack on the Normandy? It had the benefit of believability. She'd actually have to go there, pretend that the commander's remains had been deposited upon that frozen world.

Now she had one possibility. She was still working to come up with other potential explanations when a shout pulled her back to the moment.

"T'Soni!"

Liara froze in her tracks as the reverberating bellow of agitated turian easily carried over the noise of the crowd surrounding them. Her heart lurched in her chest. Garrus was _another_ encounter that she'd hoped to avoid today.

She'd seen him of course, from her vantage point over the arena. Saw him sitting among the Alliance military, head and shoulders above the tallest amongst them. The shine of his polished armor and buffed fringe had immediately drawn her attention to the lone turian and quartan in an ocean of humans. His location had also allowed her to identify Lieutenants Alenko and Adams as well, along with Dr. Chakwas and one other.

There'd also been an empty seat. One more invitation she'd ignored.

She was momentarily overcome with the urge to run, to flee the confrontation she was so ill prepared for, but a pair of deep breaths calmed her enough to hold her position. She knew that if she couldn't face him, there was no way she would be able to face Denai.

Garrus was almost upon her when she turned. She greeted him with a polite nod. She was proud that she gave no indication of her anxiety when she looked up at him, impassively facing the anger she saw on his face.

"Hello, Garrus. It's good to see you." Her voice was measured, normal.

"Hello?" He bellowed. "That's all you have to say? Good to see me? Spirits T'Soni, where have you been? No one's seen you for weeks, and suddenly you show up at Shepard's funeral like you do it every day."

Passers-by started giving them a little more room.

"There were arrangements to be made," she said, maintaining her calm.

"Arrangements? What kind of arrangements? No one knew where you were." It was difficult to tell if he were more hurt or angry.

' _That's a relief,'_ thought Liara with a glance at Denai. _She'd_ known Liara's whereabouts, but here was confirmation that that information was not widespread. There'd be no need to justify her trip to Omega or answer awkward questions about Shepard.

"Anderson kept asking us if we knew where you'd gone," Garrus continued. "I think Tevos was driving Sparatus crazy about it. At least _he_ was driving _me_ crazy." He counted off. "You left Arcturus without a word. You weren't on Thessia. You didn't go to Mindoir."

' _That you know of,'_ Liara thought. Again, she was relieved to hear that not every movement of hers had made it into public awareness. And she _had_ informed Hackett of her departure, even if she hadn't been specific about her destinations. She'd only just started working with the Admiral again, and she saw a great deal of benefit to her in maintaining that relationship. She wondered if he'd actually expected to hear from her again.

"There were matters that demanded my attention," she finally replied. Liara's cool tones sounding almost cold in comparison to Garrus' fury.

"Your attention? Your _attention_?" Garrus was instantly incredulous. "Did you ever think that we were worried about you? One day you're in an Alliance medical facility, 'condition unknown,' and the next no one knows where you've gone!" He indicated Tali and Joker who had come up behind him during his outburst. "You couldn't have responded to me? To Tali? Not even to let us know that you were alive? When Chakwas told us that you'd bonded with Shepard, Anderson thought you might have taken rest," Garrus used the turian euphemism for suicide. "We're a team! Shepard would have wanted us to face this together, to take care of each other!"

When Liara didn't respond, his eyes moved up and her body, taking in her dress. "But maybe you didn't need to be taken care of." He shrugged. "I thought you'd be devastated, but it looks like you didn't care that much about her after all."

That was enough to finally shatter her false composure. "How dare you!" Liara stepped forward, putting a finger on his chest. "Sarah was my life! Who are you to judge me? Who are you to judge my grief or criticize my actions? I will _never_ love another like I love her! She was my _bondmate_ in every sense of the word." She waved her hand dismissively. "You obviously have no idea what you're talking about. You cannot begin to understand how I feel."

"Can't understand? You don't get to play the victim card here, T'Soni. Shepard's death hit us all hard. _All of us_. You aren't special. If you've been here, you'd know that."

"And you do not believe that it hit me hardest? The one who had her torn away? Her bondmate? The one who loved her?"

"You aren't the only one who loved her!" He shouted. Tali's gasp from behind him momentarily distracted both of their attention before he continued. "She meant everything to me. She means everything to me. I would have given anything to take her place. I still would. The galaxy needed her a lot more than it needs one more cop."

"Where were you then? Either of you?" Liara wailed in response. Her gaze took in both Garrus and Tali, ignoring Joker completely "When she risked her life to save others? Like she always did? Like you knew she would?" The tears were flowing freely now, fueled by her anger. "You knew what she'd do if someone was in trouble, even if it were their own doing. Why did it have to be her? Why did it _always_ have to be her? Why was it never someone else's turn?"

"Shepard gave the order to abandon ship," began Tali, trying to distract Garrus as she joined the conversation for the first time.

"Of course she did!" Screamed Liara as she turned on Tali. "It was her way! She always put others first."

"She took more than one bullet for you Liara," Garrus pointed out, the agitated reverberation in his speech filling the air around them. "I don't remember you complaining then."

"And I don't remember you holding her at night, when the pain from the beacon was so intense that she'd wake screaming, disoriented, not knowing where she was," said Liara as she spun back to target Garrus. "I don't remember you being the one to dry her tears after Ashley died, or reassuring her that Anderson was going to be all right after the Normandy broke lockdown to head for Ilos." Her purple rimmed eyes burned in judgement.

"Don't even try that one Liara," scoffed Garrus. "It isn't like anyone else was spending nights in her cabin, or were you going to set up a rotation? You took just as much from her as anyone else. Maybe more. You don't think that she'd actually forgiven herself about what happened to Benezia? About what she put you through? Do you think that was why she agreed to becoming cari'ssi'mi? She couldn't have wanted it, there was no way for her to know what she was getting into! She trusted you. Did you really believe that she needed one more set of responsibilities? That spectre and Alliance commander wasn't enough of a burden to carry? That trying to raise the alarm about the reapers was just some part time hobby? Ask yourself this, did she really want to help you run House T'Soni, or is that one more thing she accepted out of guilt?"

Denai finally stepped in at that. These might be Shepard's friends, but this was already well beyond the point of being able to end well. She laid a hand gently on Liara's shoulder, trying to hold her back, but not wishing to further agitate the maiden.

"Peeress, perhaps it is time that we…"

"Not now, Denai." Liara's tone turned hard. No longer the mourning maiden, this was Benezia on the floor of the Assembly. This was Aethyta facing an enemy. This was the Head of House T'Soni defending her honor and the memory of her bondmate.

She stepped forward, pulling away of Denai's gentle grasp. She stood toe to toe with Garrus, Tali trying to hold him back as well. Dark energy gently curled around her body like water vapor from a pond on a cold morning.

"Jealously doesn't become you Garrus." There was a saccharine sweetness to her voice now, a subtle overlay to the contempt on her face and the ice in her tone. "You loved her. Fine. She might even have loved you too." She paused, letting Garrus have a moment to think about that, about what might have been had Liara not captured Sarah's heart.

"Shepard chose me every bit as much as I chose her. Yes, joining House T'Soni came with responsibilities. I don't deny that. It was the greatest gift I could give her. The only gift in my power that was worthy of what she meant to me." She gave him a moment to process that as well, continuing only when it seemed he was on the verge of a reply.

"And what could you have offered the commander, Garrus? A cold barracks? A father's contempt?" Shepard's own wealth had not been modest. She had been more than able to provide for herself. Liara knew that now, but she hadn't known it then.

"I could have made her happy," came the flat response. "That's all that would have mattered. She didn't care about money."

"You're right," conceded Liara. "She didn't." Her lips curled into the faintest of smiles. "Speaking of what she did care about, I can't help but notice that you didn't say anything like this when she was alive." Her smile widened even as it turned wicked. "Was that because you knew she wouldn't choose you, or just because you're a coward?"

The slap came from an unexpected direction, as Tali lunged around Garrus, bringing her palm to Liara's face in a swift motion that caught everyone by surprise.

"That's enough!" Tali injected herself into the space between asari and turian even as Denai pulled Liara back. "You both need to get over this. I was willing to let this play out, but not if you're going to attack each other like children."

Tali turned to Garrus. "Are you done?"

Garrus ignored the question as sagged in on himself. "I didn't say anything because it would have hurt her. I would never have hurt her."

"I'm sure she would have been relieved to know that you were able to hold your derision of me in check until she was declared dead," replied Liara from behind the quarian.

Tali spun to confront the maiden. "Liara! Enough!"

Liara looked at them both, as they waited for her to continue. She paused, wondering what had changed so that she became the attacker. It was only minutes ago that she'd wanted to avoid Garrus. She hadn't wished for a confrontation, but now…

"Garrus, I'm sorry," she began.

The defeat left his eyes before he turned away. "Don't talk to me T'Soni. Ever again." He shrugged off Tali's attempt to stop him, and started back the way he had come.

"Tali, I," They'd barely spoken, but suddenly Liara felt the need to speak. Wanted the dialogue that Tali had tried to bring about for since Shepard's death.

"That was uncalled for Liara. Garrus has been worried about you for weeks. He's worked every contact he had, burned every bridge. All he cared about was that you were all right, and you punished him for it."

"I didn't mean…"

"To destroy him? To rub his mandibles in what he couldn't have? To hold what you had over him? You lost your bondmate, but he lost his best friend. He's an honorable man. Right now his honor is all he has, and now you've made him question that honor. You don't deserve a friend like him. He certainly doesn't deserve a friend like you."

"That wasn't what I was trying to…"

"Goodbye Liara." Her words were every bit as cold as Liara's had been earlier. "I'm sure someone wants to see you." The quarian turned to follow Garrus.

That left Joker facing Liara and Denai. He started forward into the space vacated by Garrus and Tali, obviously shaken by what he'd seen.

"Liara. I," Joker was a child who'd caught his parents fighting.

Liara just looked at him, then through him.

She turned around.

"Come, Denai. I would like to collect my things from the hotel before we go to the docks. We're leaving."

Denai fell in behind her.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

She walked slowly around the office, evaluating the contents. It was extremely well equipped. This was obviously not an inexpensive proposition.

She narrowed her focus to the man seated at the terminal. Doctor Brun, one of the first recruits for what had since been christened the Lazarus Project. He never looked up as he continued repositioning the data projected onto three of the walls around him.

"This is a waste of time. It can't be done," he offered without looking.

"Then why are you here?" Miranda wasn't a fan of small talk either.

"I was offered the opportunity to test some of my theories, the chance to work with equipment unavailable on the open market. The salarian cellular regeneration formula alone is years away from being approved for patient trial, and Cerberus has kiloliters of the stuff."

She sighed in annoyance as she dropped the datapad she was holding onto the desk. There was a reason she preferred fieldwork, and it wasn't just because it allowed her to use her talents to their fullest. "Are you willing to tell him that? You're so sure that you insist on arguing on the side of failure?" Her voice did nothing to disguise the contempt she felt for person in front of her. "You're here because you're supposed to be the best. If that's not true then make way for someone who can do this."

"Of course I'm sure, and he knows. I told him." The man had wrapped himself in the earnestness of one completely certain in his position. "He doesn't frighten me." Brun crossed his arms. "I'm a medical doctor, as well as a cyberneticist. You can trust my opinion on this." He pointed to the monitors. "It simply cannot be done. You can't undo brain death. That's not failure, it's a fact. Anyone who tells you different is lying."

"Taking that position is why The Illusive Man has placed me in charge of Project Lazarus."

She picked the pad back up and started scrolling through the immense amount of data they had on Shepard's remains. Brun remained silent, fuming at the reminder of his recent demotion.

The pod that Dr. T'soni delivered had not only included Shepard's body, but also an incredibly detailed amount of data from the unidentified team who had performed the initial recovery. Whoever they were, they had continued to collect data about Shepard's remains all the way until their arrival on Omega.

She had to dig, but there was some good news here.

"Her brain appears to be completely intact. The helmet of her hardsuit prevented any physical damage." It would make their job easier. It wasn't enough to just bring her body to life. It had to be Shepard. It would serve no purpose to bring her back wrong.

"Physically," he conceded. He'd already read the data. "And it did, at least until some idiot took her helmet off."

Lawson agreed with the sentiment, if not the specifics. Any additional damage done to Shepard's body after it impacted Alchera would only made her job harder. From T'Soni's report, the commander's remains had passed through the hands of at least one team of mercenaries, even if it was the Blue Suns who originally recovered the body.

Mercs were not known for their finesse, but there might be hope in this case. The recovery team appeared to have been made up of professionals, and someone had given them very specific instructions. Miranda suspected that it wasn't only Cerberus who had wanted Shepard body to be recovered as intact as possible.

"According to the data, Shepard's hardsuit had maintained an active mass effect field all the way until impact," she synopsized a section of the report. More potential good news. That meant that the majority of the damage to the Commander's body had come from her initial suffocation, and then the heat of entry into Alchera's atmosphere.

She skimmed further. The impact had been relatively low energy. The commander's form hadn't even left a crater. In a kilometer wide field of debris, her body had been recognizable as human. Her suit beacon had lead the recovery team directly to her.

"They wouldn't have been able to place her body in cryo if they'd kept her hardsuit on," she reminded.

"I am aware of that, Operative," he dismissed. "Still, it would have been nice if the the suit itself were available. The data recorder might have provided a complete listing of the trauma the body experienced."

She nodded. "The photos might have something." With an impatient wave, she projected the photos of the recovery onto one of the wall displays.

"Environment suits, not armor," she commented at the images of the recovery team that had been captured in some of the photos. She cocked her head in consideration. "The Blue Suns might not have been who performed the initial recovery."

"Perhaps," agreed Brun. "They could be support staff, or contract specialists."

She shrugged. The team was made up of several species, but none of the suits had any identifying marks or insignia.

"This would have been more useful as a vid," he continued after a moment.

"Mercenaries don't like vids," she replied automatically. "They tend to include audio, and you never know when someone is going to use someone else's name or otherwise break protocol." When he remained silent, she continued. "The images are timestamped." She sorted them into the order they'd been taken, projecting them in a grid arrangement a few hundred thumbnails at a time.

Whoever these people were, they'd been meticulous. Miranda approved. She wondered if they were still alive. It was a shame to waste professionals, but sometimes it couldn't be avoided. This operation had the sense of one that would allow for no witnesses.

The first images began from perhaps one hundred meters away from the target, and captured a growing image of the commander as the team got closer. Shepard had come to rest on her left side, facing away from from whoever had been tasked with taking the images.

Brun had also noticed the meticulousness of the record keeping. "Perhaps they were concerned they might be blamed for any additional damage to the body," suggested the scientist.

"Shut up." Miranda didn't need any pointless remarks. She knew CYA when she saw it, but this was more than that. Someone had wanted a complete record of the operation. She decided that the rest of the project would be documented to the same degree. She made a note to restrict Brun's access to logs and backups. They needed to save everything.

Someone stepped forward, a few inches of movement for each image. A salarian. Several images captured the process as Shepard was rolled onto her back, her pose unchanging as she was repositioned.

"Here," she pointed down a few rows, expanding another snap from the thumbnail. "Her hardsuit was heavily damaged, but intact. You can see the puff of gas from when the seals were released. She had pressure integrity all the way until impact."

"Which they compromised by opening the suit," Brun pointed out.

"Again, they would have had to remove her from her hardsuit to get her into a cryo pod."

The photos came closer together, decreasing to perhaps a second or two between each.

Now Miranda was concerned. "She was exposed to surface conditions for almost ten minutes." She glanced at the monitors displaying the commander's current state as if they could tell her anything about her time on Alchera. "Those weren't cleanroom conditions, or even cryogenic temperatures!" She pointed at some equipment captured by the camera. "It was only -20°C. That's not nearly cold enough to ensure preservation." She looked over at Brun. "Do we know the composition of the atmosphere on Alchera?"

"We do, but what difference does it make? She wasn't breathing it. She was dead. They could have been in pure O2 and it wouldn't have made a difference." Brun reached over and changed the focus of the display, bringing another row of images to the forefront. He highlighted the positioning of Shepard's arm. "It was cold enough for ice crystals to form in the cells, but look there." He indicated a pair of images. "Her arm moved. She's not frozen, and there's no rigor."

"Meaning?"

"I don't know what it means. We know her body had to have been warmed during entry. Was she completely frozen before that? Her suit had power, but she had a better chance of being resuscitated if she was hypothermic. Did the suit allow her to go cold once her respiration stopped? The eezo core in her suit could protect her from the force of impact, but it couldn't do anything about the heating from atmospheric friction. The suit logs would have helped." He tugged on his chin in thought. "As for the rigor, your guess is as good as mine."

"Your _guess_ better be a damn sight better than mine Doctor. You're the expert here."

He snorted. "The expert told you she was beyond hope. You didn't listen to me then. Why do you care what I have to say now?"

Miranda straightened from where she'd been leaning to get a closer look at the display.

"I never questioned your expertise." She started walking towards him. "I questioned your commitment." She pulled her sidearm from her holster. "I questioned your motivation." She primed the heat sink and leveled the pistol at Brun's forehead.

"Miranda!" Brun scrambled out of the chair, pistol following him as he backed into the wall.

"Yes, Doctor?" Miranda replied with the most polite tone of the encounter. "Am I mistaken? Have you changed your opinion of this patient's outcome?"

"Y-yes," he stumbled over his reply. "There are several possible courses of action…"

She cut him off as she slid the pistol back into place. "Spare me the details. I want a formal project plan for my review by 08:00 tomorrow." She turned away from him as she slid into the seat he'd vacated.

"Oh, and Brun?"

"Yes?"

"Get out of my office."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Liara as information broker

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	7. Entangled

**Summary:**

Liara burns a bridge while Miranda does the same

 **Reference:**

Callbacks to Obligations, as well as earlier chapters of Asunder

* * *

 _During Liara's "breakfast" on Illium…_

The service was prompt, and friendly. The best money could buy. Then again, everything on Illium was the best money could buy. So long as you had the money, you could buy almost anything. Cash was power and banks were the closest thing to a government that the planet had.

Barely fifteen minutes after arriving in the hotel restaurant, she was halfway through her meal, and her tea had already been refilled twice.

She'd already resolved to leave an extravagant tip.

"You have not met the terms of our agreement," said the salarian at the next table. "The conditions were explicit. It is unreasonable for you to expect payment." He dropped a datapad in front of his dining companion.

Liara couldn't help but overhear a conversation so close at hand. The dining room was fairly quiet, and most of the other patrons were some distance from her. Paying close attention to her surroundings was a habit that had saved her life more than once. Contrary to what others might believe, she only allowed herself to truly become distracted when she felt safe in her surroundings.

Business class hotel or not, this was Illium. She'd recovered Sarah's remains, but with the ramifications of that event still unknown, she was on edge.

She wasn't trying to eavesdrop, at least not intentionally.

Perhaps it was intentionally.

Shepard had intruded upon many a private conversation in her experience, almost always to positive results. If ever there was a positive example she would want to live up to, it was Shepard.

She could tell herself that.

After all, any diversion was welcome, even the private conversations of others, no matter what rationalization she had to use. Any distraction could be helpful to help her get her mind off of Shepard. The memory of Sarah's broken remains, the sight of which returned every time Liara closed her eyes. The disloyalty she felt, that somehow she'd betrayed the memory of her bondmate by leaving her with Cerberus.

What would Shepard say when she returned? If she returned? What would she think of Liara then? Would she forgive her? Could she forgive her? After what she'd been through, would she even be Shepard?

Did any of these concerns really matter, wrapped as they were in the memory of a dead woman? If she were honest with herself, now that she was beyond the emotion of that moment, what chance was there, really, that Shepard would come back to her at all?

And was it even possible that she could be honest with herself when it came to Shepard?

All she had was the word of a terrorist. One that had almost gotten her killed.

"Your terms were based on a false assumption. That's not my fault. You wanted information that didn't exist. I got you what was actually there," the human pointed forcefully at at the pad. The human was being too explanatory in his response, decided Liara. It was almost like he was trying as hard to convince himself as he was his customer.

"You should be grateful I kept you from going further down a rabbit hole," he continued. Liara wondered what the salarian's translator would make of the human idiom. "I'm saving you time and money. Regardless of what you think, it was my neck that was on the line, and I expect to be paid."

She didn't look up as there man's rant continued, keeping her eyes on her plate as she took another bite of eggs. So much for distracting herself from thoughts of Shepard. Eggs had been a breakfast staple during her time with the commander. On the Normandy, on Mindoir, even at the estate, eggs had become a regular part of her breakfast fare. They were practically guaranteed if Shepard had been the one cooking.

And she had cooked often. Sarah had always been convinced that Liara didn't eat enough. It had been the starting point of their relationship. Liara had disagreed, but she was always willing to eat more to make Shepard happy, for a chance to see a even a glimpse of that impish smile.

Whether it had been the opportunity to watch her cook, the fact that Sarah's cooking was better than the usual fare aboard the Normandy, or just because she would have used any excuse to spend more time to the human's company didn't really matter now.

Liara knew that Omega had exhausted her already meager reserves. It was the memory of Sarah's voice that had prompted her to order so much food.

" _You're a combat biotic now Liara,"_ a gently teasing Shepard said in Liara's memory. _"Do I need to order you to eat more?"_ Green eyes sparkled. _"Maybe even feed you? Open the hangar door…"_

Liara had been horrified, but also hadn't wanted the attention to stop.

The thought of how happy Shepard would have been at Liara eating enough without being asked filled her with the momentary gratification of remembered praise. For someone who had spent so much of her life uncaring of the opinions of others, it was surprising how quickly Shepard's approval had become important to her.

It had become more important than anything else, really.

They'd each created roles for themselves in each other's lives. Shepard offering acceptance, care, and comfort. Liara offering… herself, and a welcoming family the likes of which Sarah might never have been part of again.

Liara sighed as she looked down at the remains of her breakfast with a judgmental eye. Fortunately she'd barely tasted it. The eggs were bland, at best. Nothing like the lightly seasoned buttery goodness that Sarah coaxed from the Normandy's mess. Goddess, the woman's talents had been wasted on the battlefield.

She resolved to finish it anyway. It's what Sarah would have wanted.

"There is no question that the information I seek was in their data cores. All you had to do was locate it." The salarian's tone was unchanged, but Liara could sense his increasing annoyance.

"If you're so sure, then why did you need me? Why didn't you get the data yourself?" The human had the arrogant tone of one who believed they'd won an argument.

Liara shook her head at the exchange. One thing about her time on the Normandy was that it had provided her needed experience in reading the multiple facets of communication with humans.

Fortunate, since negotiation and diplomacy were skills that Benezia had insisted she learn early on. Humans had not been on the galactic scene before she left home, leaving her education in identifying duplicity in other races limited to salarians and turians. It wasn't until she was older that it even occurred to her that asari dissemble as well.

She resumed picking at her oatmeal as the salarian responded.

"As I stated originally, your placement in the Citadel recovery project team, as well as your level of clearance was why you had value to me. Value I now question. Just because you have access to places I do not, does not mean that I am not aware of what can be found there." Still the same tone, Liara noted, but the increased speed of his speech indicated an increased level of impatience.

Salarians rarely spoke of value as it related to individuals. They were a culture of overachievers. She wondered how direct the insult had been in the salarian's native language, even as she worked to suppress a frown at the implications of his statement.

The human must be with the Alliance to have access to Sovereign's remains. Liara had no specific loyalty to the Alliance despite her relationship with Hackett, but she was offended on Sarah's behalf. Shepard would never have let such treachery pass.

She started to pay closer attention. She couldn't activate her omni-tool without alerting the men, but she could attempt to identify clues to the human's identity.

And if she could identify him, well, she was on reasonably good terms with an Alliance admiral.

The human lowered his tone as he motioned the salarian to do the same. "They don't have a weapon. I'm sure of it. Whatever you think is going on is the result of Council fear mongering. The Alliance blew up the big damn ship, and it makes everyone feel better to think that the humans and the turians were able to get something out of the wreckage to keep something like this from happening again. These rumors you're hearing are political, meant to keep people calm. They're not military."

Liara choked in surprise as she shook her head at that. She'd been bombarded with data over the last few weeks before the distraction of the Normandy, but some of Stallura's commodity pricing data suddenly snapped into relevance.

The salarian reacted to the movement, and turned to her. "You have something to add, Miss…?"

"No. Sorry," Liara murmured, her mouth dry. She was horrified at being caught eavesdropping, horror which helped her slip naturally back into the familiar mannerisms of a shy maiden.

The salarian wasn't going to let it go.

"Obviously this man's statement had meaning to you," he waved at the human dismissively. "You've been listening without comment until now." He looked her over, taking in her obvious youth and nondescript clothing. "I don't believe him. Appears you don't either. Tell me why."

The human stepped in at this point. "Look, she's just a kid. Why don't you leave her alone."

The salarian kept his eyes on Liara. "'Kid' over three times your age, and if were to guess, a similar multiple of your intelligence."

The human didn't reply.

"I'll start," began the salarian, making eye contact with Liara. "Name Gorlan, salarian STG. Turians developing weapon based on technology used at Battle of Citadel. Is fact, not supposition. Have seen rudimentary schematics, as well as results of what appears to be live fire test. Turians have been sharing technology with humans," he glanced at his dining companion, "hence interest in friend here." He turned back to Liara. "Our discussion caught your interest. Not surprising. Dining alone, obviously not local, and appear to have something on mind. However, discussion not specific enough to disclose topic unless you have information beyond what discussed."

"I apologize Agent Gorlan," began Liara.

"Pupils constricting, crest tips cooling, insincere pleasantry," commented Gorlan. "Your next statement false." He met Liara's gaze with practiced ease. "Unskilled liar."

She began again. "I am sorry…"

"Lie."

"There is no way that I…"

"Lie."

"I do not…"

"Lie."

The pair stared at each other. Gorlan looked at her with calm composure, but Liara couldn't shake the impression that he was laughing at her nonetheless.

"I appreciate desire to not disclose sensitive information. You do your species proud for someone who is not part of a branch of the asari government." He waited.

Liara remained silent under the salarian's scrutiny.

"No reaction," he nodded. "Truly aren't then. Still, only seek confirmation for information already have. You would not be disclosing state secrets."

The human spoke up again. "She obviously doesn't know anything. All maidens are good for is dancing and sex anyway."

Liara didn't respond to the slight, but the salarian smiled anyway.

"Anger? Unusual. Maiden stereotype not universal, but seldom protested." The salarian kept his attention on Liara. "Not typical maiden."

Liara almost laughed at that, even as she evaluated her options. Finally an appropriate solution came to her.

"I want his name."

"Who? My contact?" The salarian displayed confusion for the first time.

"No," Liara's eyes flicked to the human. "His."

"Ahh. Obvious miss. Not _asari_ government then. Alliance." He nodded. "Acceptable. If I deem your information…"

"No," she interrupted. "You'll know if I'm lying and you already said my information has value. Give me _his_ name, now, or I pay my check and go back to my suite."

"Wait just a…" began the human.

"Eldon. Sherm Eldon."

The human continued to protest as Liara nodded. "The hierarchy has recently been purchasing unusually high quantities of uranium and tungsten, driving up prices in both of those commodities. That in and of itself might not be worthy of note, but the weaponry used at the Battle of the Citadel used a liquid alloy based on those elements, as well as iron, which is far more readily available. Based on their increased commodity purchases, as well as of eezo, which is likely the power source, the turians would appear to have moved beyond preliminary testing of this technology, and into production."

Gorlan nodded. "You specifically say turians. Not humans then?"

Liara shrugged.

"No reaction," he repeated as he nodded. "Humans possibly unaware of turian deception. Interesting. Wonder what distracting them noticing their allies' weapons research."

"AI," Eldon, face in his hands, appeared to have given up on keeping his secrets. "The turians wanted the weapon, we wanted the targeting and guidance. Both sides knew. Both sides kept quiet." His ashen face turned to Gorlan. "You have what you want. Give me my money."

Gorlan stood, ignoring the human as he waved his omni-tool over Liara's wrist. "Payment, for services rendered. Share with Mister Eldon, or not." He leaned down, his next words for Liara alone. "Believe he will need it less, Lady T'Soni, even if you do not share identity with Admiral Hackett."

Her eyes widened. "You know who I am."

"Obviously." He stood up. "Otherwise would not have bribed waiter to have placed next to us." They were alone in their conversation, Eldon having fled the restaurant during their exchange. "Do not worry. Your role here secret." He indicated the security cameras around the room. "Taken care of. Earlier mistakes of Mr. Eldon likely catch up with him before end of day."

"Not my doing!" He said in response to Liara's accusational look. "Too many promises. Less tolerant customer."

"How…?"

"Shepard friend of STG," he bowed slightly. "Sympathies for loss. Brought House T'Soni to STG attention. House T'Soni now in business of keeping secrets. Implications fascinating."

"We're helping prepare for the Reapers."

"Largest secret of all," he agreed as he turned to leave.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

The signal from her cabin door pulled Liara from the memory of her unusual encounter on Illium.

"Come in."

She looked up from her terminal. Liara had been expecting this visit. There were few aboard the Petite'aile who would elect to meet with her in the informality of her own quarters.

And only one who would do so uninvited.

The hatch slid aside, and as expected, it was Denai who stepped into her cabin. The matron took a few steps towards Liara, then stopped, performing _lidifemea_ with a degree of ceremony that Liara hadn't seen from the acolyte in some time.

"Peeress." Denai straightened, formality maintained as she waited for Liara to respond before continuing.

"Denai." A shallow nod of acknowledgement. Interesting. So that was how this was going to be. Liara could play this game as well, even if she hadn't been playing it for nearly as long.

"We've completed the first transit, Peeress. Piraya estimates we will arrive on schedule, if not slightly before." Denai never once looked at Liara, instead focusing her gaze on a point over her head.

"You could have confirmed our ETA over comm, Denai." The acolyte had been obvious in her displeasure since Shepard's release ceremony. Liara may have been avoiding this conversation, but at this point she was out of excuses to continue to postpone it. "That isn't the reason you're here, is it?" Liara pushed Denai to continue.

"No Peeress," replied Denai. "It is not."

Liara sighed as she stood. For as annoyed as Denai seemed to have been with her, this was going more slowly than she'd expected. "And?"

"Peeress?"

"Are you going to tell me what you came here to say?"

"That depends Peeress, on if you are interested in hearing it." Denai shrugged noncommittally, but her tone was firm. "It is entirely up to you."

Liara took a deep breath. Attendant or not, _princeps_ or not, taking such liberty was not acceptable. Benezia would never have allowed for such insolence from one of her acolytes. She would have had Denai removed at the next system, her ties to the House severed.

Shepard, on the other hand, would have strongly approved. It was something to consider.

More than that, this was _Denai_. Denai who had coaxed her from the depths of her grief when no one else could. If it wasn't for her, Liara might still be in an Alliance hospital.

Denai who deserved better than the treatment she's been receiving from Liara.

So Liara held her tongue, suppressing her initial angry response. When she spoke, her tone was calm and reasonable.

"This has been a great change for us all Denai, for you more than most." She waited for an acknowledging nod before continuing. "You embraced Shepard to a greater degree than anyone else in the family. You helped her feel at home at the estate. Your responsibilities were bound by her wishes and needs. More than that, your role differed in many ways from House tradition, even our societal norms. For all that you have done, I am grateful." She waited again for the words to sink in, trying to be clear that what was to come was meant has a gift, not an insult.

"This means the estate is different for you now. I recognize that, and accept it. With Shepard gone, no one would would think less of you if you chose not to remain with the family. Denai, do you wish to be released from your oath?"

It took Denai a moment to respond, the shock evident in her eyes. "Is this your desire?" She whispered.

Liara attempted to feign nonchalance at the idea of losing another tie to Shepard, even as it troubled her deeply. "The choice is yours. I would release you this day if that is your preference." There. She'd said it.

This conversation was obviously not going in the direction that Denai had expected. "What have I done Peeress, that you think so little of me? That you do not bring me into your confidence? That you believe that I would seek to leave the House during her time of greatest need? Your greatest need? That you believe I care so little for you, for Sarah, for Benezia's memory?"

Liara shook her head. "That is not what I believe."

"Do you not?" Denai left her supplicant stance behind as she began pacing back and forth across the cabin. "You ask if I seek to be freed of any obligation to House T'Soni, when nothing could be further from the truth."

Liara's kept her voice from forming an edge. "Truly the House, Denai, or just Shepard? You served Benezia well, with deference and loyalty, but it is obvious at the last that it was Shepard who held your esteem."

Denai shook her head in response. "I was offered the opportunity to leave when Benezia departed with Saren. My duty to the House was discharged with her death. I stayed. I served. It was not my oath that kept me at the estate."

"And your service was valued and appreciated. Yet I cannot help but wonder, if I had not brought Shepard home, if I had not Named her cari'ssi'mi, is it to me you would have reaffirmed your oath? Would I have your fealty even now?"

The question hung in silence.

"I do not know, Peeress," answered Denai eventually.

"We are speaking candidly, are we not Denai? Is it my youth that makes you hesitate?" Liara had started walking now, circling Denai where she had slowed to a stop. "Is it that you believe I am unfit to lead the family? That I lack the skill to protect my House?" Her voice lowered. "Even worse? Do you see House T'Soni as not mine at all?"

"No, Peeress!" A shout at that, emotion torn from Denai as she refuted Liara's claim. "None of that. I do not question you, your ability, or your legitimacy." She paused to collect herself. "If swearing fealty to you is what you require to be certain of my loyalty, then I will do so."

Liara shook her head. "This is about what you want Denai, but I must hear it from you."

"I would remain with House T'Soni, Peeress." No delay this time.

"Yet you do not ask to swear an oath."

"As I indicated, I am willing to do so."

"I do not question your loyalty Denai. I question your motivation. You once asked Alaya to be allowed to entreat Shepard to become her acolyte, her _princeps._ You wished to swear an oath of fealty to a person who did not know what it was or what it meant. I would never ask fealty of another, least of all one who has proven themselves as you have. I do not understand why you yourself don't offer, but I do not demand it."

"The circumstances are different, Peeress, and we both know that Sarah was every bit as T'Soni as you."

Liara cocked her head in consideration, as she noticed Denai's change in bearing, the certainty that had settled over Denai. Perhaps they were closer now to what Denai had come to say. "How so?"

"While I served the House when Shepard was Named, I was not bound. With Benezia's death, I had no superseding allegiance."

Liara closed her eyes for a moment. So that was it. For the first time since Alchera, Liara felt pity for someone other than herself.

"She's gone, Denai," she softly.

"Is she, Peeress? Is she really?"

"You know so. You know as well as I. You retrieved me when I was mad with grief. You shared my memory of her loss, of losing her. There can be no greater certainty of her death."

"Yes, Peeress" agreed Denai. "I am aware that she died."

Liara pursed her lips at the odd specificity of the statement. Denai had come to be as frustrating as Sarah in a remarkably short time. "But…?"

"But I question that she is 'gone'."

"Denai, this conversation is difficult enough without clinging to vain hope."

Denai waived her to silence, another flagrant disregard for Liara's position. "This is not hope Peeress, but observation. I saw you after Shepard's death. I saw you on Arcturus. You were wounded, you were in pain. You were mourning someone who you cared for more than any other." Denai made eye contact for the first time. "You could barely function. It is amazing that Admiral Hackett agreed to meet with you at all."

"Your point?" Liara's anger was starting to grow.

Denai looked back at her quizzically. "You're no longer in mourning. You're still suffering from the effects of what happened, but your grief no longer defines you."

"If this is about the dress…"

"It is Peeress, and it isn't. Yes, your choice of dress was worthy of comment, but not inexplicable given your expected emotional duress."

"Thank you Denai," Liara decided to bring this conversation to a close. Denai was obviously too agitated to get to the point. "As you said, we have two more days of travel. We can discuss this further tomor…"

"Where is she, Liara?" Denai blurted out.

"What?"

Denai's eyes burned. "Where is Sarah? Where is the member of the family that I'm sworn to?"

"I think you should go."

"I think I should stay. I need to know. She was still on Omega when you arrived. When she was taken, you pursued. Then you arrived on Illium less than five days later on a different ship, wearing human clothing."

"How did you…?" Liara began. "Nevermind. I know how. What point are you trying to make?"

"Five days wasn't enough time."

"I tire of this Denai. Not enough time for what?"

"You never would have given up that quickly, Peeress."

Liara froze. There it was. This was _exactly_ what she'd feared.

"You would have brought her home, or you would have searched until there was absolutely no hope. Especially not after being on the same station. You would _never_ have left her behind if there was so much as a chance that she could be brought back to us. Even if for no other purpose than for her to be properly mourned." Denai shrugged. "You came back too quickly, you came back without her, and you came back angry. You did _not_ come back grieving."

Liara didn't respond.

"And now there are these reports from the Terminus," Denai continued. "'Shepard sightings' are becoming so commonplace that they're no longer considered newsworthy."

"They aren't her," said Liara quickly.

Denai rolled her eyes. "But you know this because you know where she is. All I'm asking is that you tell me. I believe I deserve that."

"I can't."

Denai rocked back on her heels, obviously surprised that her outburst had borne fruit. "Wait… She's alive?"

Liara's face was a mask. "I know where she is. That is all I can say. I can't tell you more without putting her at risk. Even this was too much, but as you say, you deserve to know."

"You couldn't 'put her at risk' if she were dead, Peeress. If she is alive, it is my duty to assist her in any way that I can."

"I need you to trust me Denai, when I say that you have no idea what you're saying. I hope that one day you do. That will likely be a very happy day for us both."

Liara watched as Denai processed the information that she'd been given, and knew that the matron would reach an incorrect conclusion. That was fine. Anything that kept people off of Shepard's trail. Even loved ones were a danger while Sarah was unable to defend herself, and Liara's denial had been firm.

When Denai demonstrated no inclination to respond, Liara put two fingers to the bridge of her nose.

"Is that all, Denai?" Perhaps this conversation had been enough to provide her some respite from Denai and her desire to 'help' her.

"No Peeress, thank you," shock was still in her tone. "I came to see you for a different reason entirely."

' _Another hope dashed,'_ thought Liara selfishly. "Yes Denai? I believe that I have been very giving with my time this evening."

"I am sorry that you were distressed that I did not offer my fealty to you."

"You came to apologize?"

Denai nodded. "Partially. It is what Sarah would have wanted. She would have desired that I assist you in any way that I could." The matron looked away. "She once asked what she could possibly have to teach, that an acolyte would choose to follow her."

"I remember," said Liara. It had been the day that Denai had sworn fealty to Shepard, not an event quickly forgotten.

"At the time, I thought I knew. Her achievements, the esteem in which you held her. Both of those were indications of a remarkable individual." She shook her head. "I expected greatness. Different from Benezia's, yes, but a nobility and prominence that comes from someone as accomplished as she." One side of her mouth curled in the hint of a sardonic smile. "I wanted to be near that greatness, that purpose. Like I had with Benezia."

She turned back to Liara. "But it was not her abilities that were her strength, but her moral compass. There were times, in my service to the house, that I questioned even your mother's agendas. Times when I accepted Benezia's wisdom without understanding it." She shook her head. "Not so with Sarah. What I learned from her, what I am learning, is how to do what is right." Now she looked directly at Liara. "Sometimes sacrifices need to be made, but not at the cost of compromising who we are."

Liara's stomach clenched at the memory of delivering Shepard to Cerberus. There was quite possibly no more definitive way that she could have compromised who Shepard was, or what she stood for.

"And you feel that I have compromised myself, Denai?"

"I would never suggest such, Peeress."

' _Of course you would'_ thought Liara. _'You just did_.' "Then what are you saying?"

"That Sarah would have wanted you to have the support of the family, of your friends from the Normandy. She would say that we are stronger together."

Liara could practically hear Sarah's voice saying those words.

"Perhaps most importantly, she would have wanted you to continue forward with purpose, not allow yourself to become adrift," finished Denai.

' _Purpose,'_ thought Liara. An unexpected priority, but one that fit well with the mindset of one who would choose to be an acolyte. She would have expected Denai to tell her to rest and recover, perhaps try to plan an escape from the coming Reaper invasion.

A plan other than the one already in motion, at any rate.

And yet Denai's point was valid. Liara had never been so fulfilled as the times when she had been working towards a goal. Her university studies, her doctoral thesis, her research on the Protheans. Each of those had placed her at odds with the expectations of others, yet had provided her with the most personal satisfaction.

But what purpose could matter when compared with the extinction of all intelligent life?

Shepard would have said it didn't make a difference. That was what Denai was trying to get across to her, Liara realized. She'd always struggled against the expectations of others. Helping Shepard against a disbelieving Council had just been more of the same, and she'd thrived on it. Now, with no one saying what she could or could not do, she'd had nowhere to focus her energies. Without Shepard, she'd allowed herself to become directionless.

"Thank you Denai." Liara felt like herself for the first time in weeks. Perhaps resisting authority was her natural state. Her mother certainly would have agreed. "You are correct. It is time that I remember what is important, and that I act on that knowledge."

"How may I serve, Peeress? We still have two days before we arrive on Thessia."

"You may inform Piraya that there has been a change in plan. We are not going to the estate."

"Peeress?"

"Have her set a course for Tuchanka."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Liara as information broker

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	8. Advice

**Summary:**

Liara seeks guidance from an old friend and mentor

* * *

 _A few weeks earlier, on the Normandy…_

Liara had been tossing and turning for some time now. Sleep used to come so easily, in almost any circumstance. Now, however…

She finally gave up, rolling away from her side of the bed closest to the bulkhead.

"Shepard," wheedled a sleepy Liara, "Come to bed."

"In a few minutes," came the distracted response. "I won't be much longer."

Liara sighed. For all of the shy looks, repeated questions, and miscommunication when Shepard had yet to admit to her feelings, at least then Liara had been assured to have the commander's undivided attention when she would come visit.

Although the asari scientist still officially maintained her quarters behind the medbay, the last few weeks had seen her sleeping in Shepard's quarters more often than not. Something that Sarah would remind her was both a breach of decorum, as well as against regulations.

But she never asked her to stop, and the reminder tended to come with a grin.

That was one useful benefit to being a spectre, Liara had learned. The freedom to set one's own rules. Even the crew, albeit reduced by one this voyage, seemed to be unperturbed by their commander's sleeping arrangements.

The crew's situation was probably more awkward than her own, Liara thought. Humanity in general, and the Alliance specifically, was known in Council Space for being rigid in their adherence to hierarchies. To go from such a structure to an environment where the objectives of the mission were more or less dictated by the hunches of the first human spectre, probably made for a less predictable environment than most of the crew had bargained upon.

It was an unusual arrangement. Although both the Normandy and her commander were on detached duty to the Citadel Council, the crew was not. Because of this, Sarah took great care to do as much as she could to ensure that her crew suffered no negative professional impact by serving on a spectre's ship. The Normandy had been considered something of a career defining posting when she'd launched, but that had been when the ship had been expected to be a vessel of exploration under the command of the esteemed Captain Anderson. Now Normandy was effectively Shepard's personal mode of transportation, and their missions almost always placed those aboard her in harm's way.

It was a testament to the men and women who served aboard Normandy that none had yet requested to rotate out. Liara knew that day would eventually come. For now, it seemed that all of the human members of the crew had made the adjustment to their somewhat irregular command structure. They looked up to the commander, and after the success of the Saren mission, even the nonhuman members of Shepard's team were warmly accepted, and not just tolerated. Of all people, Lieutenant Pressly seemed to miss Wrex the most.

Liara was glad. She'd made friends here, and she wasn't looking forward to the time when they might leave. Due to the realities of human lifespan, as well as the vagaries of Alliance military service, Liara knew that individual members of the crew could be reassigned, or choose to depart at any time. It was so unlike an asari vessel, where effective teams might serve together for decades, even centuries.

So different. Yet while the estate held decades of memories for Liara, it was the Normandy that felt like home to her.

She'd talked her thoughts over with Karin, who had long since come to terms with them. "It's the nature of the military," she'd said with the accepting view that reminded Liara of a matriarch. Unlike Liara, Chakwas had chosen this life with her eyes wide open. Liara had drawn no small comfort from the human doctor's quiet certitude. The fact that as an asari maiden, she was biologically inclined to defer to the wisdom of her elders, was a propensity that she didn't fight in herself when it came to insight shared by the Normandy's chief medical officer.

It was insight she often availed herself of, especially when it came to Shepard.

Shepard, who still had not come to bed.

"Shepard," she tried again. "It's late."

"I'll come to bed soon. You don't need to wait for me," Shepard replied from her desk, again without turning around.

This time Liara sat up. "I did not come in here to sleep alone, Shepard." That was an understatement. Liara hated sleeping alone now that the alternative had presented itself. She took the pair of steps to Shepard's desk, laying her hands on the human's shoulders, feeling the tension there, but also the strength and warmth that had drawn her to Sarah in the first place. "I came in here to sleep with you."

Sarah placed one of her hands on Liara's own, stroking it gently. "I'm almost done, I promise."

Experience had taught Liara not to believe Shepard's words in this case, no matter how sincerely the human might have meant them.

So she leaned over Shepard's shoulder, looking at the terminal. "What are you writing?" It was obviously an Alliance document of some kind, but Liara couldn't get close enough to read it without sitting in Shepard's lap.

Not that the thought was unappealing.

"Ash's recommendation," came the quiet response. "Hackett's managed to get her star fast tracked. I'm not sure how, but I appreciate it." The commander's tone told Liara that Sarah was at least starting to regret the position she'd placed the admiral in during her own commendation.

"I would suspect that a request from the Hero of the Citadel might have helped." It wouldn't hurt for Sarah to remember that there was a reason she'd received that commendation and promotion.

Liara rolled her eyes when, as expected, Shepard shrugged off the compliment. "He can use my name all day if that's what gets Ash the recognition she deserves." She squeezed Liara's hand. "She deserves a lot better than what she got."

"She was a hero," Liara agreed, wishing that she had had opportunity to get to know the sergeant better.

"And I killed her," came the expressionless reply.

"No, you did _not_ , Shepard," answered Liara forcefully. This was not a new conversation for the pair, and Liara's response was well worn. "You were absolutely correct in what you told Kaidan. If you need someone to blame, place that blame on Saren. Ashley's loss was tragic, but it was not your fault."

"I chose her to die, Liara. It doesn't get any more 'It's my fault' than that. I'm not going to abrogate responsibility for my actions. I was her CO. She trusted me, and I let her die."

Liara pressed in closer, wrapping her arms around Shepard. "You were her CO, and she did trust you. She trusted you to make the right decision, and you did. When you gave the order, she obeyed. More than that, she knew it was the right decision."

"We don't leave people behind, Liara."

She leaned in and kissed Sarah lightly on the cheek. "You didn't leave her behind, and you know it. If the AA tower had fallen, you would have lost the ship. You knew that, Kaidan knew it, and Ashley knew it too."

Liara wanted to go to sleep. If she was tired then she knew that Shepard had to be exhausted. So she decided to fight dirty. "Ashley fought with valor, and she saved the Normandy. More than that, she died knowing that she had." She again leaned in close. "Would you take that away from her? From her memory?"

Shepard's stopped typing mid-word. "No," she whispered.

"I didn't think so." Liara stepped back as she took Shepard by the hand. "Enough of this. It's time for bed."

Sarah gave Liara the guilty little grin she'd come to know so well. "When did you start sounding like Hackett?"

"When you started feeling guilt for every loss," she began as Shepard gave her a harsh look. "And when he started asking me to make sure you were all right."

"You're a little late for that then," she replied with a sigh. "It just seems like someone pays a price for every one of my 'successes'," she said as she reached down to unfasten her boots. "Ashley didn't deserve to be one more statistic in my list of 'victories'."

Liara moved over to her side of the bunk while she waited for Sarah to undress. "She willingly volunteered, even knowing the likely result."

"I know," replied Shepard as she crawled into the bunk. "But it doesn't help."

Liara snuggled close. "Self-pity doesn't suit you, Shepard. We have talked about this. Sometimes there are no good outcomes." She looked into Sarah's eyes. "Would you like to talk to Karin?"

"Not really." Sarah turned away to turn off the light.

"I didn't think so," continued Liara when Shepard turned back to her. She kissed Sarah on the nose. "Go to sleep. You can finish writing the recommendation in the morning. Just be sure that when you do, remember that Ashley wasn't a victim. She was a hero that placed herself between an enemy and the people she cared about."

"''Thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand between their loved home and the war's desolation?'" She snuggled closer to Liara. "That's a good thought. Maybe I should have you help me with writing it."

"I am not familiar with that line, but I would be happy to Shepard." She smiled in the darkness. "After all, Admiral Hackett already suspects I write your after-action reports."

"That's because you use words like extirpate."

"Shepard. Go to sleep."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

' _We don't leave people behind.'_

Shepard's words had echoed in her memory after speaking with Denai.

She'd done exactly that, and the realization had shamed her. She'd discarded a teammate as if he'd been a defective tool. No second thought, no backward glance. He'd been a means to an end. She'd been grateful, of course. Thanking him in her mind as she'd sped towards the relay. However, when she'd rendezvoused with Cerberus, Miranda had not asked about the drell, and Liara had not volunteered information about his status.

She and Miranda held Feron in the exact same level of importance, and Liara hated that any part of herself could be comparable to Miranda.

Yes, Feron had betrayed her. He'd also betrayed Cerberus and the Shadow Broker, so she wasn't exactly alone in that regard.

But in the end Liara had escaped Alingon with Shepard's body, while Feron was captured assisting her getaway.

She didn't even know if he was alive.

But if he wasn't, then she knew who to blame.

Still, how do you fight a phantom? The Shadow Broker had been operating in Citadel Space for over a century. Some surmised that the broker was a collection of individuals. Others believed that the broker was truly singular, as he claimed. Liara personally suspected the latter. Her interaction with the broker had appeared to be singular in nature. There had not seemed to be need for the approval or consent of others to make rapid decisions.

That led to the supposition that the broker was a member of a long-lived species. There was no reason that an asari couldn't choose to project a male persona to binary races, and in fact, many did. Nevertheless, Liara didn't believe the broker was asari. Krogan was another obvious choice. Liara would not have suspected a krogan to be sophisticated enough to manage an operation as complex as the broker's until she'd met Wrex. The battlemaster had done a great deal to raise Liara's opinion of the krogan race, even without Shepard's obvious admiration for the mercenary.

Krogan didn't seem right either. The broker was too methodical, too focused on working behind the scenes, despite their obvious influence. A krogan would be using their power more overtly by now.

And the Shadow Broker had amassed a great deal of power.

Enough power that Liara knew her own House T'Soni resources were not a match. She had money, and no small influence inside the Asari Republics, but nothing like this. House T'Soni could influence policy, but the Shadow Broker could topple governments. His name was feared. Opponents were deterred from opposing him by his reputation alone.

What she needed was an army.

Fortunately she knew where to find one, or at least the equivalent. That meant a trip to Tuchanka.

It hadn't been that simple of course. Not that she should have expected otherwise. Nothing had been simple since Sarah died.

Despite being the krogan homeworld, Tuchanka was not a common destination for vessels in Citadel Space. Not vessels on legitimate business anyway. The Krogan DMZ was heavily restricted. Weapons of any kind were forbidden entry into the DMZ.

They got in anyway, but those weapons were mostly restricted to small arms, grenades, perhaps the occasional missile launcher or two. Nothing to worry about. The Council would destroy the planet to keep the krogan from rising again, but really didn't care if the krogan waged war on each other.

As if the krogan needed another reason to hate the Council.

Because she traveled in an unarmed vessel, and had more than a few contacts in high places, Liara had no difficulty receiving clearance to visit the krogan homeworld. A rudimentary inspection, an assortment of waivers absolving the Council government of all responsibility in the event of injury or death while visiting the DMZ, and she had permission to travel to Tuchanka.

All the while she's listened to Denai trying to convince her that this was a bad idea. As if she didn't know _that_.

So now they were on Illium.

There was no central government on Tuchanka worthy of the name. No registered ports, no security forces. The entire planet was effectively a war zone, and the Petite'aile was a tempting prize. Krogan mercenaries would quickly press the ship into service as a blockade runner.

Her ship was fast, but it was small. Liara simply couldn't carry enough huntresses aboard to defend the vessel against a krogan assault. Even if she could, she would not choose to spend the lives of her people in the defense of a thing. Better not to bring the ship to where it would be a temptation.

Hiring a relay capable shuttle seemed the easiest solution. As a return to the Citadel or to Thessia would create complications and discussion that she would rather not face, she had decided on Illium as their interim destination. The Petite'aile could be docked, and a shuttle obtained, with no more effort than transferring funds from one account to another.

It bothered her somewhat, how much she found herself liking the convenience of Illium.

It was not Denai, but Anedra who created the first interruption in her plan. Once she had escorted her to the dock, she moved to block the maiden's path.

"You cannot go to Tuchanka alone, Peeress."

"I will be fine, Captain." Liara stressed the title to make the point that this was not a discussion.

"Even if that were as certain as you believe Peeress, the risk is too great. You have chosen to leave your ship behind, yet you yourself are a far greater prize. The Head of a Thessian Great House? The ransom would be extreme."

Liara shook her head. "Then you are not to engage in negations for my return should the worst occur." She nodded her head curtly in dismissal as she moved to step around the matron.

Anedra moved to intercept her again. "Even if the House were to follow such a direction, you must know that Armali, or even the Council would see to your safe return if contacted? You have no successor, no heir. There are many who would not choose to see House T'Soni left without leadership in these times. Many who would have the power to ensure your recovery."

Liara was silent for a moment, reflecting on how she had at least one, and hopefully two, successors to lead House T'Soni if it should come to that.

Unfortunately, she could not share that information with Anedra. She's already shared too much with Denai.

"Fine." Liara put a great deal of displeasure into her tone. "You may accompany me to Tuchanka."

"Thank you, Peeress." Anedra moved slightly to indicate that she would no longer block Liara's path.

The maiden did not step forward. "You alone, Anedra. There will be no detail of huntresses, no private security." When Anedra did not reply, she continued. "Wrex is a friend. If your presence creates any unrest with his clan, you will wait with the shuttle without argument."

"As you wish, Peeress."

"Excellent." Liara started down the docks again toward where their shuttle was waiting. "I would like to collect Wrex and return as quickly as possible. Time may be of the essence."

"Of course, Peeress."

The pair only took a few minutes to reach the shuttle, which opened with a wave of Liara's omnitool. She stepped in, sweeping the compartment with her eyes. Nodding at the collection of equipment she saw. Food, armor and weapons were all present, in addition to a small amount of outdoor gear and supplies. Hopefully they would need none of it, but they seemed to be appropriately prepared.

Prepared for three.

Liara turned and entered the cockpit as the pilot's acceleration chair slowly spun to reveal Denai.

The pair locked eyes for a moment.

"Yes, Peeress?"

"Nothing," Liara replied with a sigh as she took the co-pilot seat. "You may depart when ready."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Her omni-tool had been able to ping Wrex's easily enough once they're made orbit. He hadn't answered her hail, but he also hadn't shut down his transponder function either.

Liara took that to mean that he was open to receiving visitors.

The CDEM had waved them through after a cursory exchange of communication, reiterating that there would be no intervention if they became embroiled in the continual eruptions of clan violence. The orbital battlestations never bothered to train weapons on them.

The'd been fully scanned, but as expected, there had been no comment on the small arms they carried aboard. Armed or not, it appeared that their shuttle wasn't considered much of a threat.

The officers of the Council Demilitarization Enforcement Mission never asked her their purpose nor made any inquiry into their final destination. They probably thought she was here to hire a mercenary. She could have answered honestly. She was looking for a merc, in a manner of speaking. Fortunately she hadn't had to use Wrex' name. She didn't want to draw Council attention to him, not if he had any chance of succeeding in his quest. There were many who would not want to see the krogan clans unify under one banner, no matter the stated purpose.

Denai had parked the shuttle on an open plain, five kilometers from the ruins that contained what she assumed was the Urdnot encampment. Scanning had revealed that there were several dozen krogan present, with Wrex' omni-tool active among them. The landing had been an uneventful affair, with some mild buffeting from the desert winds. They'd donned their weapons and armor before setting off. Best not to go into negotiations from a position of weakness, even if it were with a friend.

The temperature was close to unbearable. Liara had never been to Tuchanka before, thank the Goddess. It made sense, how strong the krogan had become, to be able to survive in an environment such as this.

She trudged across the steppe, Denai and Anedra by her side, taking as much care as she could not to kick up any additional dust.

The dirt didn't need her help. There was enough of it in the air already, powdered sand and ash, thick and choking. The burning wind was thick with the abrasive particles. She had been tempted to use her breathing mask to gain some relief, but refrained, as neither of her companions had done so. She was in command here, and would not be first of the group to demonstrate weakness.

Nor would her mask do much to assist with the stinging in her eyes. They watered under the dual onslaught of particulates and glare from the blazing white point of Aralakh directly overhead.

Besides, if she met Wrex while masked, he probably wouldn't be impressed either. She had no desire to be teased in front of the other members of her team.

She breathed through her nose as they walked, doing her best to ignore the irritation as every breath drew searing air into her nasal passages. There was little discussion amongst the trio, which suited Liara as she kept her lips pressed tightly together against their surroundings.

Fortunately they had plenty of water. It only made sense to prepare with such when entering a desert. She drank constantly, but not enough to stave off the beginning of dehydration. Her skin was crying out in agony from the tips of her crests to the webbing between her toes.

No matter how much lotion she applied when they returned, she knew she'd be shedding scales for weeks.

They'd been walking for nearly an hour when the first krogan scouts became visible off to their left. She knew they'd been watched far longer, but had given no indication of that awareness. They needed to appear capable, but not aggressive, until the question of their welcome had been established.

They were nearly to the ruins when one of the scouts finally intercepted them.

"What do you want?" Straight to the point.

Liara looked him up and down, not giving ground, but not intruding into his space either. He was large, but compared to her, all krogan were. He hadn't pointed his weapon at them, which confirmed Liara's suspicion that visitors were not unexpected. In that moment she realized that Wrex was probably trading with offworlders to supply his clan. One thing her studies had taught her was that revolutions are expensive, and being part of Shepard's team had probably opened doors for him. No wonder this krogan seemed relatively polite.

"We are here to see Urdnot Wrex." Liara was pleased that she managed not to cough.

The krogan rocked back and forth. "Clan Chief's not expecting you. He's not expecting you, you don't see him."

"I assure you that he will see me," Denai placed a hand on her arm, a reminder that Liara's tone was in danger of becoming a bit too imperial. "I'm.." She almost said _"an old friend."_ What would that mean on Tuchanka, she wondered. An asari maiden claiming friendship with the clan chief would probably be taken in ways that she would not want to deal with. "A friend of Shepard's," she finished.

He waited for a moment, possibly relaying the message inside. Finally he moved a step to one side. "Straight ahead. Don't go down any tunnels. Left at the collapsed tower, then about a two tenths of a kilometer."

"Thank you," she replied as they started into the ruins.

"Stop!" He yelled, unslinging his rifle.

"What?" Liara turned in confusion, but the krogan's attention was not on her.

"Not you, just her," his response directed at Denai and Anedra.

"Peeress?" Anedra looked like she wanted to throw the krogan through a wall.

"It will be fine," soothed Liara. She turned to the krogan. "I will leave a channel open, and won't be gone long."

The krogan nodded permission.

"I will not be gone long," she repeated to herself as she entered the ruins.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

The krogan were a living race, but their civilization was a dead one. Modern krogan culture contained a mixture of influences created by the aborted salarian uplift, galactic distain, and the affliction of the genophage. A proud people whose pride was stripped away.

Liara reflected on that fact as she walked through the ruins, tempted at every step to stop and take an image or attempt a translation. This placed called out to the archaeologist in her, and she ached to answer that call.

If only the krogan themselves saw the value in their past works. To her knowledge, there were no research currently active on the planet, and her knowledge of the field was extensive. Such a wasted opportunity. That researchers could discuss krogan relics with living krogan was an invaluable asset. She could only imagine the quantities of knowledge that could have been revealed to her if she'd had access to a living Prothean during her own archaeological researches.

She hurried deeper into the ruins, shaking her head at the thought of a dream that could never come true.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Fifteen more minutes brought her to the expanse that contained the krogan encampment. She strode in confidently, as to appear neither timid nor hesitant. Her suspicions about offworld involvement were confirmed when several krogan acknowledged her presence, but otherwise paid her no mind.

She hadn't expected to see so many krogan together behaving like… people. There was a great deal of activity going on, with krogan cooking, organizing, maintaining equipment. The impression was one of a colony, not a war party.

Wrex was easy to identify, even among so many krogan. He was near the center of the encampment, sitting on a block of stone half the age of his race, gnawing on a varren leg. The archeologist in Liara longed to throw herself at his feet in an attempt to read the inscriptions, but she knew that was not the visual she wished to display to a group of unfamiliar krogan.

The teasing curl to Wrex' lip made her believe that he knew exactly what she had been thinking.

"Blue!" He yelled as she approached, throwing the leg over his shoulder and wiping his mouth on his arm. "Where's Shepard?"

She froze for a moment, realizing he hadn't heard the news of Shepard's demise. She wouldn't be the one to tell him, she decided. She couldn't have that conversation now. Not while maintaining her focus, and focus was what she required.

"Hello Wrex," she replied softly once she drew close. "Shepard couldn't come, but you know she thinks of you."

"Of course she does! You're lucky I didn't want to steal her away from you." He pounded the chestplate of his armor. "Handsome krogan right here!" He waited for the laugh that didn't come before continuing. "What brings you to Tuchanka?" He slapped a space on the stone next to him, indicating she should sit.

"You, of course." She inched carefully onto the stone, trying not to wear away any more of the ancient engravings than the environment already had.

Once settled, she tried on a smile for size, one she hadn't worn in a while. "I thought that perhaps I could interest you in a challenge." She wondered what it was about Wrex that made her feel comfortable enough to tease a battlemaster.

"Ha." The krogan shook his head. "No can do, Blue. There's too much going on here, we're right on the cusp of something. If I could stay away, I'd be on the Normandy."

Liara closed her eyes briefly as she let the comment pass. "You've had success then?"

"Well, the clans aren't bowing to Urdnot authority if that's what you're asking." He looked like he would have blushed if he was capable. "But they're talking, and when they're talking, they aren't fighting. Shades of Shepard I suppose. By the time they want a fight, they'll be too used to Urdnot organization, resources, and assistance. They won't want to give them up." He shrugged his massive shoulders. "That's the plan, anyway. It worked for Shepard."

"Oh," she replied softly. She was happy for Wrex. She was. That didn't keep her from realizing at this moment how much she had come to expect she would be successful in recruiting him for her cause.

Wrex noticed her change in mood. "Don't worry Kid, you've got a big strong spectre looking after you these days. What could you need Uncle Urdnot for that Shepard can't do?"

"Shepard is… away," Liara choked out the word. "And I doubt she would have much interest in this particular endeavor."

Wrex nodded. "Meaning it's a hit, or something else unsavory you'd never get your saintly girlfriend to agree to." He waited for Liara to elaborate. "That's it, isn't it? Who could you possibly be looking to take a contract out on?"

"The Shadow Broker."

Wrex looked at her in silence for a moment, before standing up. "Come on, Blue. There's ruins around here that I know you can't wait to lay eyes on. Things no asari has ever seen! You should get a good look before you head back." He led her down a passage opposite of the direction she'd come.

"I always thought you were harder than you looked," began Wrex once they are out of earshot of the others, "But I always assumed it would come out when someone made a pass at your girl."

No response.

He looked at her askance. "Did he make a pass at your girl?"

"Of course not, Wrex." _'He tried to sell her to the collectors!'_

Another detail that she would leave out of the discussion.

"I have a… friend. He double crossed the Shadow Broker to help me. Triple crossed, really. I got away. He didn't."

"Killed?" Asked Wrex.

"I do not know." She hung her head as her hands worried a seam of her armor. "He was captured, but I have no information about what happened to him after that."

Wrex let out a low whistle. "You don't want to get captured by the Broker, Blue. The stories that get out, that he lets get out, are just one of the reasons why no one is willing to cross him."

"I know, but I have to do what I can. I have heard nothing! He may be alive!"

Wrex was quiet for a time while they continued down the passage. "You say he double crossed the Broker?"

"Yes."

"To save you?"

"Yes."

"Lovers?"

Liara treated the battlemaster to an angry glare.

"I had to ask. You show up here, without Shepard, asking for help to save someone else. Something doesn't add up, Blue."

"I have a friend in trouble. I can't ask Shepard for help, but I know she would assist if she could."

"She'd be all right with you taking out a hit?"

"On the Shadow Broker? To save a friend?" She shook her head. "She helps everyone, you know that. I just have to do this myself, and for that I need soldiers, mercenaries."

"You don't take down the Shadow Broker with muscle, Blue. Shepard could have told you that."

Silence.

"Look, you don't need Uncle Urdnot for this one, Kid, not yet anyway. You already have everything you need."

"And what is that?" Liara asked angrily.

"Time. Money. Patience." He turned to her as the grin returned. "Determination and intellect. You're as stubborn as Shepard, but the only way you defeat an information broker is with information." He waved her silent when she started to speak. "Oh, there will be guns at some point, but not an army. All the guns in the galaxy won't help you if you don't know what direction to shoot."

"So you won't help me."

Wrex sighed. "Blue, Shepard would skin me alive if I took you up against the Shadow Broker unprepared. I meant what I said. If you really want to go up against the broker, you need to lay the groundwork. You haven't done that. When you're ready to face him, you'll know."

"And then?"

"And then, if you still need Uncle Urdnot, I'll be there."

"Thank you, Wrex."

"No problem, Kid." He stopped as the passage opened to the desert, pointing into the desolation. "Go out here, head around to the east a couple thousand meters, you'll meet your friends."

She ignored the indicated direction, closing the distance between them instead. She stood on her toes, as she wrapped her arms around his chest. "I wish you were coming with us."

"They always do," he chucked. He cleared his throat as she stepped back. "I assume you don't want me to talk about this with Shepard?"

"I would prefer if you didn't."

"Thought so." He turned back down the passage. "You'll want to hurry. It starts getting hot in another hour or two."

She turned towards the desolation.

' _Starts getting hot?'_

* * *

 **A/N:**

Thank you to Daniscats for catching most of my typos!

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Liara as information broker

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	9. Apologetic

**Summary:**

Where Aethyta has a visitor

 **Reference:**

Six months have passed since Chapter 9

"Vigilant" from the drabbles is very relevant here, as is Chapter 10 of Obligations

* * *

This was Illium, so the bar was clean at least.

Visibly clean, at any rate. The corruption and impurity that lived beneath every surface on Illium could take a practiced eye to identify. Sometimes such an eye could take centuries to develop fully.

But then Illium was an asari world. The majority of her inhabitants had centuries to spare.

The bustle she'd experienced earlier when the trading floor was open had made one thing certain. She'd been away from this planet for too long. She felt at peace here, despite the purpose for her visit. Thessia was painful for her now, and might never stop being so. Illium went a long way towards providing the respite she needed.

The pulse of Nos Astra was that of a living thing, and she drew comfort from it. Despite her vow, she was never meant to be a colonist. A rural lifestyle left her longing for urban amenities. Oddly, she was seldom one to avail herself of them, but it was reassuring to know that they were present when the desire arose.

She also missed the sensations that came from being engulfed by throngs of her own kind. The familiar voices, styles of dress, the way strangers would brush up against her with a smile. No skin to skin contact, but such touch brought an affirmation of presence that she'd missed. The crush of bodies made even the unfamiliar faces around her seem more substantial than the humans that surrounded her at home.

Humans had far too many introverts among them, she'd decided. They required too much personal space, had too many unfamiliar boundaries. There were days when mealtimes were eerily silent, her Terran comrades focused on their research, barely aware of their surroundings or the meals they consumed. Also, who'd ever heard of a home having locking doors between individual rooms?

Living among humans had left her feeling lonely enough that she yearned for a sense of kinship, of intimacy. It was probably why she felt the temptation to take a lover after all this time, if only to help stave off the sense of solitude. Davin had caught her eye as a likely candidate. His cooking and conversation had drawn her interest for some time now. The communal kitchen was now her preferred destination in the evenings, and he'd seemed happy for her company. Perhaps there was something there to pursue when she returned, when her mind was clear of distractions.

For now, to be surrounded by asari, the reassurance that came from understanding the familiar customs and mannerisms had released an accumulation of tension she hadn't known she'd carried. The knowledge that everything around her had been designed specifically to meet the needs of her race, from the size of the doorways, the amount of eezo in the food, to the composition of the atmosphere in the arcologies, created a sense of ease that had been lacking on her adopted world.

But her personal comfort wasn't why she was here on Illium, nor why she had selected this particular bar.

She was here on business. Family business, but business nonetheless.

The bartender had been watching her quietly, polishing a glass that had probably seen more attention of late from her rag than from a patron. The bar itself was spotless, ready for a clientele that seemed yet to appear. No hubbub of conversation filled the room. The background music was muted, some ambient contemporary that she wasn't familiar with, punctuated occasionally by news updates.

The music obviously wasn't the bartender's selection, she knew. Too quiet, too easily tuned out of awareness. There were no vocals, and not nearly enough beat. She shook her head at the memory of the pounding, shrieking selections that once reverberated through the estate.

For a time she had grown somewhat fond of them. One more thing that had disrupted the calm intensity that had prevailed at House T'Soni for so many years. Benezia had complained, but she had done so with a tolerant smile. A smile that had made her heart soar.

The memory alone was almost enough to make her smile now.

"You just gonna to stand there?" The bartender finally broke her silence. There was some challenge there, but it wasn't overly threatening. It was a legitimate question.

She stepped inside, allowing the closing door to be her answer.

The bartender offered nothing more while she made steady progression to the bar, absorbing some of the ambiance of the establishment. The row of stools were equally clean, equally empty. She selected the one directly in front of the bartender, and settled herself upon it. Her quiet demeanor unassuming as she regarded the woman she hadn't seen in decades.

" _Goddess, she hasn't changed at all.'_

An odd first thought, that. After all, it had only been decades, not centuries. Perhaps living among the humans was changing her in ways she hadn't perceived.

The glass disappeared behind the bar, with the rag tossed into a bin in the corner. Another took its place, and the bartender began wiping the bar. Her demeanor was less challenging now, eyes focused on the rag rubbing a circle in front of her. Finally the silence was too much.

"Drink?"

"No, but thank you," she replied automatically, immediately regretting it. She had come here to engage her, not shut her out.

She leaned forward, laying crossed arms upon the bar, getting closer to the bartender in an attempt to correct her mistake. The countertop was refreshingly cool against her skin, as the smooth surface brought a contrast from Illium's heat. One negative to this world that she'd immediately remembered when stepping off the shuttle a week before.

"You can't come here and not order a drink. You'll ruin my reputation."

"It's good to see you, Aethyta."

Surprisingly, it was. She'd hated her. Then envied her. Finally, pitied her. Now she was a reminder of happier times. Happy memories. Memories of Benezia.

And then Liara.

Aethyta's eyes came up at the disclosure, her rag stopping its circular motion before resuming at a slower pace.

"I was surprised to hear from you," she confided after a moment. "It isn't like we parted on the best of terms."

"They were unfortunate times," agreed Shiala. "And while none of us behaved well, it was you who were wronged."

"Huh," the rag moving slower still. "You didn't think so the last time I saw you."

Shiala considered her words. "I was blinded by my devotion to Benezia. You never pretended to be anything but who you are. You never put on the airs of an aristocrat, never sought advantage from your relationship, never traded on Benezia's name. You were nothing but honest, even to yourself, and you were unfairly treated for it."

"Your love for Benezia, you mean. Everyone could see it but her." The words were hard, but the tone neutral.

"I don't deny it."

When Aethyta didn't respond, she put her hand on the matriarch's. "I am so sorry. It was my duty to fight for the family. Is my duty. I should have fought for you."

Aethyta stepped back, making eye contact for the first time as she gently pulled her hand away. "You always did have a way with words." Finally her demeanor softened as she took a deep breath and shook her head. "So much for the shitstorm I was planning to unleash on you." Aethyta slung the rag over a shoulder with the chuckle of one who'd just released a great burden. "Fuck, and I had a good one planned too, but you had to go all sincere on me. Only one thing to do now." She made a show of waving at the bar's offerings. "I'm having a drink. So are you. What's it gonna be?"

"Do you have any juice?"

The matriarch's glare would have emptied the bar were it not empty already.

"Enough of that shit. Not juice, not water, and not goddess damned tea. I thought you were my friend until you had me escorted from the estate like a criminal." She gave Shiala a moment to appreciate her meaning. "Are you going to have a drink with me, or are we done?"

No, Aethyta definitely hadn't changed. "I would be honored to drink with you, Aethyta. Do you have any wine?"

"Of course I have wine. It's a fucking bar. What kind?"

"I don't care." A pause. "Wait," she corrected. "Anything but human."

Aethyta reached below the bar, selecting a specific bottle of Thessian red from one of many at her disposal. "I have to admit, I'm more than a little tired of humans myself these days." She placed two glasses on the bar and carefully poured. "1977."

Shiala did her best to contain her surprise as she reached for the closer glass. "Good year."

"In many ways." Aethyta collected her own.

The sip was everything she could have hoped for. She closed her eyes as she savored it, allowing the memories to flow with the flavor.

The 1977 pressing had been an excellent one. Only a century old when Liara was born, Benezia had had it served it anyway, despite the incomplete aging. She claimed that like her newborn daughter, it had potential.

As usual, she had been correct. The wine had matured into one of the most flavorful in the last quarter millennium, highly sought after by both connoisseurs and collectors. The glass in her hand probably cost more than Aethyta earned in a month.

Earned through legitimate means at any rate. There were probably many ways in which Aethyta hadn't changed.

"Thank you." She nodded her recognition of the meaning behind the selection.

"No big deal," lied Aethyta. "It isn't like anyone else was going to drink it anyway."

"I noticed that there seemed to be a bit of scarcity in clientele," she indicated the empty bar with her glass. "Too many altercations with the bartender?"

"Ha, ha." Aethyta took a another sip from her glass before answering. "This used to be a pretty rough place. After a couple of months I got tired of dealing with the lowlifes, so I went to the owner and offered to clean it up. The idea of actually making money from this place was a powerful motivator."

Shiala looked around at the near opulence. " _This_ was a rough place? I can't imagine that it wasn't busy every night after the trading floor closes."

"You'd think, but not that many asari came near the place, and those that did come only did because as you say, it was close to the trading floor. Most of those never came a second time. Too many 'undesirables'."

"Meaning?"

Aethyta shrugged. "It's close to the docks. Lots of transient customers. Eternity was known as where you could go to deal, or make a deal. There was some light criminal element, batarians, humans. The typical kind you find in the Terminus if you've been out here long enough. On the local front, a couple of lower tier crime bosses operated out of one of the back rooms."

"Seems like your kind of place."

"Well, yeah," she admitted. She'd actually selected it for the location, with little consideration for the patronage or atmosphere. "Maybe once. But it wasn't the kind of place I would want my daughter to go." Another sip. "And despite the prevailing opinion, I prefer my violence to be slightly less constant."

Shiala noticed the mention of Liara. That was her opening. "She's been here then?" She wasn't here to be subtle.

"A few times," Aethyta conceded.

More than a few, or so Shiala had been informed. According to Denai, Liara came here for dinner almost every night for the last three months.

"She's taking after her father then? Appreciates a few drinks after work? Or is she just looking for a good time?"

None of that was true, of course, and it triggered the dirty look she'd expected.

"She'll have a glass of wine, sure." Aethyta's tone didn't reveal much. "But she doesn't socialize any more than she ever did. She'll come in, order dinner, and sit with her nose in a datapad until she has a cramp in her neck."

"You should be grateful she's distracted," Shiala teased lightly. "I can't imagine your cooking has much improved."

"I'm not the cook, not that it matters." Aethyta had started pacing a bit behind the bar. "She wouldn't be able to tell anyway, that greasy mess of human food she orders." She brought the menu up on a pad. "Do you know what a 'French fry' is? It's carbohydrates and starch wrapped in grease. She orders them with every meal. Between that and the ice cream I swear to Athame that she better be taking supplements or she's going to die of malnutrition."

Shiala looked away, not wanting Aethyta to see her stifling a laugh. It was quite amusing to hear the matriarch who had always been defined by her penchant to ignore rules and norms sounding like a parent.

A caring parent at that.

A parent that never had a chance to be with Liara. The only child she was a father to was the child she'd never known. Given her history, that had to be a special kind of torture.

That thought did a great deal to chase away the laughter.

"She hasn't died of malnutrition yet, despite her propensity for a narrow diet." Yet another unusual behavior in a maiden. While others might indulge their palette with a variety of foods and cuisines, Liara tended towards convenience and the familiar. Where other graduate students might be horrified the first time they were exposed to the meal selections available on an archaeological dig, the nutrition bars and flavored proteins weren't far from the foods that Liara would choose on her own, just for the convenience of having to abandon her studies less often to prepare them. Shiala was well aware of the maiden's tastes. While Liara had been at university, Shiala had made it a point to send her a selection of nutritious snacks on a regular basis. Nothing that required preparation, so they wouldn't go to waste, but enough to add a little variety to her diet.

Aethyta was going through the same anxiety she had those many years ago. "I wouldn't worry about it," she counseled. "This isn't anything new for her. Once she finds something she likes that's all you can get her to eat until she gets tired of it."

' _Parenting tips to Aethyta,'_ who would have thought?

"Well it isn't like I would know that, is it?" Aethyta replied angrily, reminding Shiala of her earlier thoughts of their separation. "Maybe if I'd known that I wouldn't be trying to get her to eat a vegetable once in a while. Kid's got enough troubles that eating right's probably the least of her worries."

Shiala nodded in agreement as she considered the comment, wondering how much Aethyta really knew about what Liara was going through. "She's confided in you then?"

The questioning look told Shiala all she needed to know. "Confided what? That she fell for some dumbass human who up and died on her? That the Conclave thinks she's going to drive House T'Soni into ruin and take Armali with it? I can get that from the news." She waved at the speakers overhead, currently providing an update on the price of unrefined eezo. "As for the rest, all I know is that for some reason research isn't enough for her anymore, and she's decided to start working in the information trade." She stopped pacing, leaning back against the bar. "That's a rough game Shiala, especially for a kid her age. Worse than mercenary work. You piss the wrong person off and the next thing you know some assassin has a contract with your name on it."

Shiala nodded in acknowledgement. _'Either Liara had said nothing, or Aethyta was keeping such information to herself.'_ Aethyta could keep a secret, but based on her frustration it was probably the former.

But Aethyta was correct. Shiala knew of three 'by any means necessary' contracts with Liara's name on them. She saw no reason to share that information. Aethyta was aware or she wasn't.

It had taken every ounce of willpower to trust Denai when Denai had told her, her first instinct having been to come racing to Illium to drag Liara to Feros to keep her safe. She would have locked Liara away until things went back to normal. Eventually the urge has passed, but she doubted that Aethyta had she same degree of self control.

Liara was drawing a great deal of attention from the wrong kind of people. Not that long ago there had been seven contracts, not three. Eliata had seen to the elimination of two. Denai had told her that Aethyta herself had taken care of one of the others. It was possible that Liara had seen to the fourth.

Liara was playing a dangerous game, but no matter the reason for her seemingly self-destructive behavior, House T'Soni would protect her any way it could. It seemed Aethyta was implementing a similar plan of protection.

Aethyta was still waiting for a response, so she decided to give her something with a lighter tone. "As far as she knows you're just a bartender with an unusual vegetable fetish?"

"Heh. It's a good cover that's served me well for a long time. Bartenders are supposed to be nosy."

She could tell Aethyta wasn't fooled.

"So you don't find it odd that Liara has chosen to frequent the specific bar where her father works?"

Aethyta shrugged. "It's close to her office. That's why I picked it." She looked away. "It's convenient for her, that's all."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

 _The turian hadn't gone quietly._

 _That was absolutely fine with her. She had enough rage bottled up for the turian, and a dozen more like him. He'd picked the absolutely wrong day to cause shit in her bar._

 _Someone tried to kill her daughter!_

 _He'd laughed her off when she told him to get the fuck out. Brushed her away when she'd pointed him at the door. Took a swing when she'd pushed him in that direction. She knew the type. Drunk courageous, with friends urging him on, just to see what would happen._

 _She'd made her point with a singularity. It'd felt good. She looked around, hoping the man's friends would give her more targets, but they didn't. They carried him out, never looking back._

 _Pity, really._

 _The bar had calmed down after that. Several of her usual patrons remembered urgent business at other locations, while others took their more questionable interactions into the more remote recesses of the establishment. Tinoke, the salarian, watched her questioningly, waiting to see if her outburst was the beginning of some larger purge, or that their understanding was now somehow changed. She shook her head as she helped the waitresses pick up some of the scattered tableware, and after nodding he returned his attention to his client._

 _Back behind her bar, Aethyta surveyed the room with no small amount of satisfaction. Other than Tinoke, no one had met her gaze through the entire altercation. She'd claimed a bit more authority here, at least for now. It wouldn't be long before there was another fight, or some other dumbass did something stupid, but for now things were calm. Sometimes the place almost looked goddess-damned respectable. Something to think about._

 _She returned to wiping the bar, feeling pretty damn good about herself for the first time in almost a week. Illium was pissing her off. What kind of fucking planet was it where you could save your own damn kid's life, and then feel like shit about it for days after? That kid should have been a dancer, maybe a waitress like the two working the floor in Eternity tonight. Not a merc, not an assassin. Not a baby in yellow armor that didn't even have its paint scratched yet._

 _That's not what Eclipse used to be. Hired security, sure. There was strong-arm work there, but not the criminals and thugs they'd become._

 _At least she'd gotten it out of her system. She almost couldn't remember the maiden's face. Maybe she wouldn't need the whisky to sleep tonight._

 _Her mind wandered for a moment, memories of an earlier time, before her own time as a mercenary ended, putting her onto the path that had eventually led her to Benezia._

 _Sevleta's voice brought her back to the present. Sevleta was talking to a customer, an entry she'd missed while her attention had been elsewhere. Her eyes swept up and down the new arrival, centuries of habit coming into play as she categorized her, nearly instinctively._

 _Asari. That was good news. Odds were against an order she couldn't fulfill. Maiden, and even with her back to Aethyta, she could tell that she was a young one. There was a risk of something stupid then. Maybe ryncol, or something turian._

 _Aethyta doubted it though. The maiden was alone, and dressed too conservatively. She wasn't here to show off, or to celebrate. She hadn't joined any of the groups who remained after the altercation with the turian, so she wasn't here for something questionable, and unless she was meeting someone, she wasn't here to socialize either._

 _It was the Acolyte that the maiden wore low on her hip, that first triggered Aethyta's sense that something was out of the ordinary. The holster was fashionable, blended seamlessly into the maiden's dress, and was obviously custom work._

 _The maiden fell into no easy categories._

 _The realization caused Aethyta's eyes to snap to the maiden's crest._

' _Fuck.' Even facing away from her, Aethyta recognized Liara. She would have done so sooner if it had ever occurred to her that Liara might come here, given the reputation of the place._

 _She was still gaping like an idiot when Sevleta came up to the bar._

" _Drink order," began the waitress._

 _Aethyta tore her eyes away from Liara. "Cider? Liqueur?" She was already moving towards the refrigerated storage, not yet ready to think of Liara as anything but a child, and her order including any but the most innocuous of alcohols._

" _Uh no," came the response from a confused Sevleta. "She wants some human wine. Ancar. I told her I'd never heard of it, but she insisted I ask."_

 _Aethyta stopped in her tracks, turning to the wine cellar. "We've got it." She pulled out a dusty bottle, cork still in place. "It's a white. Human winery in the Traverse someplace."_

 _Sevleta eyed the unopened bottle questioningly. "Expensive?"_

" _No," replied Aethyta. "I doubt many people have heard of it. Most human wines with any following are from Earth or Terra Nova." She peered at the bottle. "And I can see why. It's only fifteen years old. It's barely drinkable." She poured a glass anyway. "Just the wine?"_

" _I already placed the food order. It was human too."_

" _Something called a cheeseburger," she continued at Aethyta's questioning look._

 _Aethyta watched Sevleta return to the table with the wine. Liara never turned to face the bar, and Aethyta couldn't bring herself to go talk to her._

 _Eventually Liara finished her meal, and departed._

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Shiala waited until it was clear that Aethyta wasn't going to continue. Her account of events were close enough to what Denai had relayed that she felt no need to question them.

"You don't think she came to see you?"

"She didn't exactly show it."

"You didn't either."

"What was I supposed to do? Go out there and say, 'Hey Kid, here's your cheeseburger and by the way I'm your father.'?" Aethyta shook her head. "That wouldn't have been awkward at all."

"I think that it would have been lovely. It absolutely is a more direct approach than cleaning up the bar and hoping she comes back. Isn't Liara worth a little awkwardness?"

"Sure, but she didn't exactly make it easy on me. She could have said something too."

"She came to your bar. I think that counts as meeting you more than halfway."

"Why are you here Shiala?" Aethya ignored the statement as she changed the subject. "The booze here is good, but not good enough to justify a trip to Illium."

"To check on Liara, and you as well."

"And get away from that backwater you're living on?"

"It is nice to spend time away," admitted Shiala. "But there were any number of destinations that I could have selected, and I will return to Feros soon enough."

"Whatever. We're fine thanks. We're both fine. You can tell whoever you're reporting to these days that everyone is fucking wonderful." She waved in the general direction of the door. "You can leave any time you want."

"Did I say something wrong?"

"It's what you're not saying that's pissing me off." She looked around, as if someone could have snuck into the quiet bar before she leaned close to Shiala. "Someone sent you here. I don't know who, and that bothers me."

"You don't know who sent me because no one did. Denai told me Liara was spending time at your bar. I thought it would be good for me to see how you were handling it." She offered an innocent smile in response to Aethyta's glare. "Imagine how surprised I am to discover that you aren't handling it at all."

"Now look," Aethyta pointed as the bar in front of them both. "This is where I am, and this is where I planned to be. I promised I wouldn't interfere, and I haven't. I'm keeping my distance. I never intended to go talk to her. She doesn't know me from Athame. How was I supposed to know she would come in here?"

"How could you believe she wouldn't?" Shiala replied softly. "She's every bit her father's daughter. Intelligent. Driven. Stubborn. She apparently even shares your communication skills." She watched Aethyta wince at the barb. "For her entire life she was rebuked when she would ask about her father. You don't think that finding out who you were was the first thing she did when she ascended?"

"Bullshit."

"Of course she knows who you are, Aethyta. Perhaps she's watching you just like you're watching her."

"Not like I'm watching her. I'm the one who's supposed to stop her if the matriarchs think she's stepped too far out of line." Aethyta finished her glass, putting it down next to Shiala's empty. "Some father I am."

"Given all that has transpired, she likely knows that as well."

"Not a chance," Aethyta replied shaking her head. "If she knew I was here in case they ordered a hit, she wouldn't come within half a system of me."

"If she knows you like I do, she is fully aware that she's in no danger."

After a moment Aethyta reached below the bar for their bottle, unsealing it once more.

"I always hated you, you know."

"Of course you did." Shiala pushed her glass forward. "Just half please."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Liara as information broker

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	10. Encounter

**Summary:**

Where Liara faces an assassin

 **Reference:**

All kinds of callbacks in this one:

Conditions  
Obligations 12  
Discovery 2  
Fragments 1  
Asunder 4  
Asunder 7

And those are just the ones I know of offhand.

* * *

"Are you certain that this all the information that was available on the D'aava matter?"

"Absolutely, Peeress." Denai gave no indication of her annoyance at being asked the same question three different ways in the last five minutes. "The transaction was self-serving, but Matriarch Kithia did nothing specifically detrimental to the Republics by executing it."

"And this is Stallura's view as well?" Liara's tone was both tired and impatient, even over comm.

"She has reviewed the data, Peeress," confirmed Denai. "She found nothing worthy of comment before passing it to me to be included in your morning update." Another question asked repeatedly.

"You don't find that odd?"

Finally, as question asking her opinion. Denai was beginning to wonder if Liara had reached the point where she had no interest in counsel from others.

"Odd, no." When the miniature Liara poised over her omni-tool motioned impatiently for her to continue, Denai expounded. "D'aava has a significant amount of natural resources available, and it is not unreasonable to expect that Kithia would try to profit from them during a time of increased demand."

"But we could have used those resources!"

"How, Peeress?" Denai shook her head. "All of the shipyards that Khos controls, directly or indirectly, are at capacity. Stallura already controls a significant amount of the commodity markets of the materials she needs." When Liara continued to glare at her, Denai just shrugged. "The turians are starting to build ships ships too, and they were willing to meet Kithia's prices, whereas Stallura was not. Had we intervened, all that would have happened is that you would have created another adversary on the Conclave."

"Hardly," snorted Liara in return. "The majority of the Conclave is already my adversary, Kithia among them. Our offer was reasonable. She should have accepted it, and been grateful to do so."

Denai forced herself to wait for a moment before responding. Liara was becoming more comfortable with her power and influence, that was certain. The fact that she was still an impatient maiden, and one with a temper at that, was beginning to show at times, particularly when her will was thwarted.

"D'aava will not be depleted by supplying the turians. By the time we are ready for Kithia's resources, if we ever are, we will also be willing to meet her price."

"But we could have had them now!"

"Yes, Peeress," agreed Denai even as she was reminded of a much younger Liara interacting with her mother. "We could have, but we would also have done nothing but stockpile them, possibly for years."

"And when we are starved for resources?"

"Even now Stallura believes she can purchase eezo on the open markets for less than the turians were willing to pay to Kithia." She paused to give Liara a moment to process. "Let her bleed the turians. If they're willing to overpay, that's their own poor decision making. That just gives Kithia more credits to purchase T'Soni ships when the time comes."

"You cannot assume a best case, Denai. Kithia is an adversary in this, and needs to be treated as such."

Denai nodded. "As you say, Peeress." She waited for Liara to respond before continuing. "Will there be anything else?"

"We will speak tomorrow, at the usual time." Liara closed the connection without additional pleasantry.

Denai looked up to the matriarch in the doorway. "You look like you have something to say."

Alaya nodded, not entering the acolyte's office, cluttered with datapads and screens. "She's changing, Denai," Alaya began once she was certain the connection had actually closed. "You have to put a stop to this."

"I am only an acolyte, _Seneschal_ , there is little that I can do to influence our patron," she replied despite being surrounded by equipment and information that contradicted her denial.

Alaya took a step into the office. "She listens to you," Alaya insisted. "You can use that."

"Even if that were true, use it how?"

"You can start by not being so goddess-damned helpful." Alaya indicated the room, a veritable trove of obscure information. "She wouldn't be nearly as successful in this varren brained endeavor of hers without your help."

"Possibly," agreed Denai, "But I think you underestimate Liara's resourcefulness, as well as her stubbornness."

"Withholding your assistance could make it easier to convince her to return to the estate. We need her home."

"First," replied Denai coldly, "I am Liara's to command. I will never withhold my service and still call myself T'Soni." She shook her head as Alaya began a rebuttal. "She will have my support, no matter what. Second," she continued, "this is what Sarah would have wanted."

"Even if it means Liara's downfall? Our responsibility is to protect the family, not ensure its destruction." Alaya leaned over Denai's desk. "Is that what Sarah expected of you? Blind obedience?"

The chill in Denai's tone intensified. "My obedience is not blind, nor is it without purpose. If Liara were to lose benefit from our interaction, if her faith in me should wane, all that would mean for her is that she would pursue other avenues to reach her goals. I would prefer that she not sever contact with the family, as tenuous as it is."

"Aethyta would likely not agree."

"What do you care? You already told her you side with Liara. Have you changed your mind? I've kept her informed." Denai shrugged. "She's been almost cordial," she tilted her head in contemplation. "For her, at any rate."

"She hates being in the dark."

"And she will be if Liara stops working with me, or with our network. This is the only way I know to ensure that Liara continues to see advantage in maintaining ties with her House."

"This isn't going to end well, Denai. I don't know how you think it can."

Denai shrugged as she reached for a datapad. "I never thought it would."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Liara stared at the terminal once the comm had disconnected, her face set in stone.

Denai didn't understand. Neither did Alaya. Not that either of them had admitted to Alaya listening in on the comm, Liara had been certain she was there.

That was just as well, Liara supposed. Denai at least had the sense to keep her opinions to herself. Liara had seen to that. Alaya on the other hand, was one to offer guidance whether it was desired or not, and Liara most emphatically did not desire it.

Although Alaya had ceased arguing for the status quo, either out of frustration over Liara's lack of response, or because she'd actually changed her mind, she still attempted to counsel Liara to tread lightly around the matriarchs.

Liara had no intention of doing that.

Not that she deliberately went out of her way to discount opinion just because it came from a matriarch. She would never question Stallura for instance, even though she didn't hold her in quite as high esteem as Shepard's level of near reverence. The matriarch was incredibly competent, and never failed to deliver on Liara's requests, no matter how bold or outlandish. The rare times that she did express disagreement with Liara, she did so in such a manner that Liara almost felt foolish in her opinion.

But those were thoughts for another time.

For now, Liara had two goals. First, prepare House T'Soni for the Reaper's arrival at their doorstep, the galaxy at large having informed her that it had no interest in being saved. Second, ascertain Feron's current status. The debt she owed the man was substantial. The drell deserved everything she could do to seem him freed or avenged.

As more information made its way into Liara's network, it appeared that those goals had more in common that she had originally realized. She wasn't the only one in a frenzied search for information about the Reapers.

That was a distracting train of thought, so Liara set it aside for the moment as she checked the time. Three hours until dawn.

Denai had been surprised, and then concerned, when Liara had scheduled their daily call at such an unusual hour. Liara had brushed off the unease, explaining that she would be meeting with clients all day, and there was no other time where she could allocate time to meet with the matron.

The lies came so easily to her now.

There was only one problem when lying to someone who had you under surveillance, and that was that the lies were obvious. In her favor was that when one was lying to someone who had sworn loyalty to your family, you were unlikely to be called out on it.

She almost smiled at the thought that it didn't keep Denai from being annoyed with her.

Good.

Denai had seemingly set herself up as a "Shepard surrogate" in the household, creating no small amount of consternation among the staff. That fact that Liara had done nothing to intervene, and even seemed to support Denai in this endeavor seemed to confuse the members of the House even more.

Liara didn't necessarily feel that she owed the matron, Sherpard's _princeps_ , the freedom she'd been granted. It simply seemed to be the easiest way to prevent Denai from being a distraction. The information Liara had shared, in what she now considered to have been a moment of weakness, had galvanized Denai. She had proven to be incredibly effective in assisting Liara as she'd taken her first steps into the world of trading information.

Denai was adeptly using the network of maidens she'd assembled. She was collecting a repository of information the likes of which Liara had never expected when she'd first been told of the matron's plan. Of course Liara knew that Denai had her own uses for the information; locating Shepard and keeping tabs on Liara primary among them. That was fine. Information had many uses, and many customers.

It also had direct value. Liara's original plan of buying her way into the information trade, purchasing data requested by her clients at whatever it might cost, but then selling it in turn at less than she'd paid had amassed a large number of customers, but had proven expensive.

The abundance of information collected by Denai had ameliorated that problem somewhat, and Liara had even recruited a small number of Denai's more talented sources into her first round of agents. The only problems Liara had encountered so far was the excess of enthusiasm common among maidens. Liara had tempered that somewhat by pairing the more problematic members of her team with the more experienced agents that she had also begun to hire.

Sometimes maidens could be more trouble than they were worth.

She stood up from her desk, stretching before stepping out of the alcove she used as her home office. She paid the rain sheeting against her windows no mind as she made her way to the kitchen to refill her tea. She stood over the sink for a time, taking contemplative sips of the fortifying beverage. She almost placed the cup in the sink to join the several days' worth of dirty dishes collected there, before deciding instead to top it off and carry it upstairs.

As comfortable as she found the nightgown she was wearing to be, it was inappropriate dress for the needs of the day.

She gazed into her wardrobe, holding her cup lightly against her chest. A number of asari gowns were arrayed in front of her, all professionally conservative in style and cut. The wardrobe contained not a single pair of pants, shorts, or any of the loose tops that she had come to favor when she'd worked in archaeological digs. There wasn't even a science jumpsuit, both unstylish and durable, of the type which formerly constituted the other half of her wardrobe until not so long ago.

The realization saddened her, but only for a moment.

She put her cup on the nightstand, and pushed the gowns aside. The action exposed the secondary compartment, which slid open with a touch to reveal two sets of combat armor.

The first was her Regent, in all its purple and orange hideousness. She hadn't worn it since Omega, yet somehow hadn't found it within herself to discard it either. For now, it was a tie to Shepard.

The second had no name, being a custom work created from drawings that she'd provided to Neria. White with blue trim, the design was loosely based on a human lab coat, a garment that Liara had encountered herself wearing as an image in Shepard's mind. It provided the protection she sought in conjunction with a scientific styling that she hoped to never stop associating with herself. No matter how far down this road she might travel, she wanted the reminder of where she hoped to return someday.

Information trading was intended to be a means to an end, the lever she hoped to use to topple the Shadow Broker. It was never going to be her career, no matter how skilled at it she might become.

She ran her fingers down one seam before lifting the armor from its rack. She'd worn it twice now, each time to a successful conclusion. Neria had been horrified when she'd first seen the depiction, calling the open jacket configuration an extravagant concession to a design ideal, but Liara hadn't cared. She'd never felt more confident than the first time she'd put it on, and the first time it had deflected enemy fire had only increased her satisfaction.

She stripped, and carefully slid the main segment of the armor over her torso. Every closed clasp, each secured fastener a reminder of when she and Shepard would help each other into their protective gear. Liara had enjoyed the attention as Shepard would take extra care to insure that Liara's armor was adjusted properly, practically preening under the human's touch. Liara dutifully reciprocated, even though she never discovered any issues with Shepard's equipment. Shepard had always waited patiently while Liara checked every lock, adjusted every seal, while Liara struggled to not be distracted by Shepard's proximity.

Their feelings for each other had manifested in so many ways, but in the end it hadn't been enough.

She linked her omni-tool to her armor and checked her power cells and executed the suit's startup routine. She anticipated she'd be using her shields today, and it wouldn't do for them to give out just when she needed them. All the self checks came back with reassuring blue indicators. Convinced that her armor was prepared for whatever was coming, returned to the kitchen. As before, she barely noticed the messy condition of the area before opening a cabinet and collecting a handful of ration bars. Her biotics would also likely be seeing use today, and she knew from experience how hungry she'd get. She slipped the bars into one of her armor's compartments as she stepped out of the apartment, the action triggering yet another memory.

She held her head high as she made her way down the hall to the elevator. She needed to be focused. It was going to be a busy day.

After all, she was off to meet the assassin who had been hired to kill her.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

It couldn't have been more of a cliché if it tried.

Nos Astra civil records indicated that the location had been part of a business that had failed over a decade prior. No tenants had occupied it since, and the building had passed through several owners over the intervening period.

The location was a remote part of the city, an area that had been in decline for many years even before that unsuccessful entrepreneur who had failed in their pursuit of profit. There was no bustle of commerce, so pervasive in Nos Astra. No pedestrians strode the district's trash strewn walkways. Traffic was a distant hum, unseen.

An obvious trap. The building might as well have had a sign.

The lock was easily picked, Liara's top of the line security program making short work of the decade old security system. She locked it behind her, for all the good it would do, before making her way through silent hallways, past empty offices, before she reached the warehouse proper.

Like the rest of the building, the warehouse itself was dark, vacant. The space was expansive, with ransacked containers strewn haphazardly throughout. What faint illumination there was came from the bare handful of emergency lights that still functioned, casting deep shadows into the recesses of the enclosure. If there had been anything of value here, it had likely been taken years before.

Everything about her surroundings was familiar. Liara had been here once already, days before. She'd come shortly after having been contacted by her supposed client. The request had been straightforward, some light industrial espionage. She'd been building quite a name for herself in the commercial intelligence space, and this commission appeared to be more of the same.

The negotiations began where they usually did. There had been the usual discussions about the conditions of the engagement. What would constitute an acceptable amount of information, guarantees of validity of the information acquired, timetables, price, and so on.

She had expected the question of price to take the longest. It almost always did. Liara would name a number. The client would feign indignation, and counter with a number far lower. Liara would counter with the cost of her expenses, and the assumed value of the information being requested. The client would offer a bluff, pretending to be prepared to engage another information broker. Liara would offer a discounted amount in an attempt to keep the client from doing so. After all, the client was already here, and we've come this far. Let's finish this deal, shall we?

They would eventually agree on a number between sixteen and seventeen percent lower than the price she originally asked, and everyone would walk away satisfied.

The process had become so receptive as to be boring. Liara had learned her negotiating skills from matriarchs, not that those skills had assisted lately with more important matters. These simple negotiations had reached the point where Liara could perform them in her sleep, and she was almost ready to hand such client interaction over to Farmop, her assistant. The salarian was probably an even more shrewd negotiator than she was.

So it caught her by surprise when this client immediately agreed to her price.

That was a warning sign if ever there was one. A client unconcerned about the price of their information typically fell into one of two categories. Either cost was of no concern to them, in which case they would likely have gone to an information broker with a wider reputation and larger customer base than Liara, or they had no intention of paying.

When the client followed up with a request to complete the transaction in person, Liara immediately recognized their intent as the latter, and why they would be unconcerned with any retribution.

' _Amateur,'_ the nescient information trader had thought at the time. She'd almost rolled her eyes at the face on her terminal. The slight delay in speech and unnatural stillness of her client when listening had already informed Liara that she faced a VI representation. The client wanted to mask her identity, but now wanted to meet in person? Only one likely outcome from that. She probably wasn't even human, despite how she had chosen to be depicted on vid.

Liara shook her head at the memory as she walked the perimeter of the building, checking the sensors she'd left behind during her first visit. They should have alerted her if anyone had entered the premises, but she checked them by hand anyway. No system was resistant to all forms of hacking, and her life might depend on the warning they were intended to provide.

Each sensor appeared undisturbed, with uninterrupted uptime and logs. It didn't make any sense. Liara hated when things didn't make sense.

She explored the interior of the warehouse next, continuing to check the equipment she'd left behind. She suspected it was a vain hope, but she could have gotten lucky. There had been the possibility that she might have been able to identify her "client". Instead it appeared that her adversary had not returned since selecting the building as the location for their exchange.

The warehouse thoroughly checked and scanned, Liara squatted in the shadows, considering her options.

She had several hours to go until her scheduled encounter. She'd had the sense to make sure that no one else had placed sensors as she had. She felt as secure as she could that no one was watching her from inside the building.

The outside was more problematic. There weren't any external windows in the warehouse itself, and the adjoining office space was sealed and secured. While she didn't know of any way she could be under direct observation, that didn't mean that someone hadn't seen her enter the building.

She'd arrived so early with that very hope in mind. Her goal had been evade detection by the individual she'd come to see as her adversary, of their agents.

She was beginning to believe that she might have been successful, but that didn't make any sense either. The warehouse should have been a web of sensors, or worse, wired to explode in the event of unauthorized entry.

She was glad it hadn't been wired to explode. That would have been unfortunate.

It also made her question her assumptions. The warehouse was a good location for an ambush. If she were naive enough to wander around the open spaces of the warehouse, there were any number of places that she could be monitored by an observer who might remain hidden from view. Such an observer would also be able to take an unobstructed shot, for that matter.

She scrutinized the sight lines, following their alignment back to obvious locations among the roof supports, the rafters being the logical place from which a sharpshooter would strike.

There was one location in particular from which a shooter would have a clear line of fire for almost the entire space. Liara immediately discounted that as too obvious. Months of working with Garrus at her back had taught her that a sniper who "camped" in the obvious location was also an obvious target.

With that in mind, she discounted the next best location, and the next. She finally decided on a particular junction of support struts that would be inconvenient to get to, questionable to shoot around, and a precarious perch for a shooter who would likely prefer a prone position. By the time a victim would think to look there, they would likely have run out of time.

She congratulated herself as she stood, moving into deeper shadows. That's from where her assailant would strike. She was certain of it. If the team were storming this building, if she were with Shepard, that's where she knew Garrus would be.

It wasn't lost on her where she's gained this knowledge, who she used to trust to be at her back with a sniper rifle, but she pushed those thoughts aside.

She was eight hours early for her meeting. Not even Garrus would set up that far in advance.

Comfortable that she had the upper hand over her adversary, she settled in to wait. Depending on when her adversary arrived, she might be home in time for lunch.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Liara was starting to become concerned. She never expected to wait this long.

She ran through all of her assumptions, certain she had interpreted everything correctly. She'd already overcome one assassination attempt, and that one wasn't nearly as overt as this one seemed to be.

But maybe she was wrong? Perhaps that's what her adversary wanted her to think? Or perhaps the building had been under surveillance all along, and they'd seen her enter? Maybe this was all a ruse to get her out of her office, and even now there were agents at her place of business trying to break the encryption on her files.

She'd almost convinced herself that she'd fallen for a misdirection, when the the notification from her sensor at the door froze her in place. Her adversary had arrived.

Liara tried to make herself smaller in the darkness, shrinking against the wall. She held her breath as she heard booted footsteps draw first closer, then move away.

Whoever her companion was, they walked a straight line from the entrance to an access ladder at the rear of the building. They made no attempt at stealth, or to keep quiet in any way. The ladder rattled as her adversary climbed it, ringing with every impact of her assailant's armor and weapon.

Now Liara was starting to become concerned. The soldier? Mercenary? Appeared to be alone, but every assassin that Liara had ever heard of operated in the shadows. A a hit wasn't successful because the objective had been achieved, but because no one knew the assailant was ever there.

This person didn't seem to care if anyone knew they were present. Such boldness, such hubris. Liara was beginning to feel that she might be outclassed by a sniper who didn't believe they needed to move in secret.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

It took longer than Liara expected for her adversary to climb the ladder, coming into view just before they reached the top. Liara watched from the shadows as they eased themselves onto a catwalk, then seemed to struggle to pull their rifle through the railing to join them.

Liara tilted her head in confusion. _'That didn't seem right,'_ she about this was going as she expected.

Her opponent moved lumberously down the catwalk, holding onto one rail as it shook under their weight. Their other hand held the rifle awkwardly, letting it swing, where it occasionally struck the supports holding the opposite rail.

Liara watched incredulously as the assailant ignored the location that she'd earlier judged as optimal. They then passed the next, and the next. Finally, they reached the first perch Liara had noticed, the one she'd judged too obvious to use.

She shook her head as this time her opponent struggled to get off the catwalk, and into position. _'Goddess,'_ Liara thought. Not only had they picked what was probably the worst sniper's perch in the place, they'd managed to position themselves in such a way that they were backlit by one of the few functioning lights in the room.

Liara wasn't all that frightened anymore. If it weren't for the fact that she remained open to the possibility that this was all a ruse, she could almost feel sorry for her adversary.

She waited impatiently as the assassin arranged themselves. They were too high up for Liara to get a good feeling for their size, but Liara thought her assailant wasn't all that much larger than she was. Eventually they were fully settled into a prone position, their rifle targeting the door that led into the warehouse from the building's office space.

Liara watched as they would dial in the weapon's sight, look over it at the target, and then adjust it some more.

If not for the gravity of the moment, it might almost be enough to remind her of a certain turian and their penchant for calibrations.

With only minutes to go before they were scheduled to meet, Liara's opponent finally went still, becoming quiet for the first time since they arrived.

Liara rolled her eyes as she stood silently in the darkness. She dialed her Carnifex to its minimum setting, and slid a block of disruptor ammunition into place. Normally she wouldn't have taken the time, but she didn't feel particularly threatened, with her opponent's gun facing the opposite direction, and her actual opponent seemingly oblivious to her presence.

If this was a ruse, she decided, so be it. At least one adversary would no longer be a threat.

She raised her arm in one swift motion, and fired.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Liara walked over to her adversary, still twitching on the ground, their rifle left behind in the rafters. Asari, or a human woman in asarioid armor. Maybe her "client" was human after all. No matter.

She was careful not to get too close, the effect from the impact of her disruptor ammunition still arcing across the yellow and black armor as she leveled her Carnifex at her victim's face.

This should be the easy part. She'd already done this once, albeit at a distance. It was no more difficult than dispatching mercenaries, or geth. She'd done that hundreds of times.

She pushed down the unexpected nervousness as she sighted down the barrel. She managed to resist the unexpected urge to question her captive, to ask who had contracted her, and why she'd been targeted.

Even if the assassin knew, it didn't matter anyway. She could come up with over twenty possibilities, each as likely as any other. It was just business.

One last breath to steady her hand as she began to apply pressure to the trigger. Even now she imagined Shepard's hand around hers when she would fire her pistol. It helped, kept her from flinching before the shot while still being prepared for the recoil.

"…Liara?" The voice was distorted by the helmet speaker, but familiar nonetheless.

Liara's finger leapt from the trigger with such speed that she was lucky she didn't drop her weapon.

"Liara, it's me." Hands moved to release the helmet.

"Don't move!" Liara's hand was rock steady once more, finger again positioned to dispatch her foe. Perhaps her adversary wasn't the novice she'd taken her for.

Her prisoner froze. "Let me take my helmet off."

"Shut. Up." Liara took several steps back, wondering again if her assassin had an accomplice.

"Liara?" The tone was questioning.

She was far enough away. She could dodge a grenade, evade a rush, deflect a charge. She'd been too close. _'Stupid, stupid,'_ she chastised herself. "Go ahead, remove your helmet," Liara motioned with her other hand, keeping her pistol centered on her assailant's torso.

Her prisoner moved slowly, as if only now realizing the danger she was in. Her hands unsealed the collar, and slowly lifted off the helmet, turning her head to allow it to clear her crest.

She set the helmet gently aside, making no movement to rise from the floor.

"Liara?" The voice was almost pitiful now. "You're not going to kill me, are you?"

Liara sighed as she lowered her weapon, knowing it was a risk but no longer caring. She'd changed in many ways that she would never have dreamed possible, but if any of those changes allowed her to shoot the individual in the floor in front of her, then she had no interest in being that person.

"No, Carvkae. I'm not going to kill you."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Liara as information broker

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	11. Protection

**Summary:**

Where Aethyta has grown accustomed to her new lifestyle, and Liara takes Carvkae under her wing

 **Reference:**

A few callbacks to earlier stories and drabbles, but mostly relating to Carvkae who made her reappearance in the last chapter.

* * *

' _Just another day at the office,'_ she thought as she put another handful of glasses away.

For many years now, Aethyta would have identified herself as a bartender to anyone who asked. There was some truth to the statement, and no one who knew who she was would have needed to ask the question.

While she'd stood behind many bars in her long and interesting life, she never actually thought of herself to be a bartender. Instead, she preferred to think of herself as an opportunist, or perhaps a coercive entrepreneur.

Which translated loosely into, "So long as you do what I tell you, you get to live."

For someone who had mostly left the business, bartending had turned out to be a good cover, and one she'd found herself to be remarkably well suited for.

It had benefits for her as well. It was amazing what one could learn while serving drinks. Everyone talked to their bartender. Contrary to matriarchal opinion, she was an exceptional listener, with a good memory. If you mentioned you'd been fired last month, she knew to ask how the job hunt was going. Relationship troubles? Money problems? Celebrating? She knew all right places to nod, had no problem telling you when you'd done well or if you'd fucked up, and wouldn't break your arm the first time you tried to put a hand on her ass.

The second time, well, the warning'd been given.

The skills she'd developed in earlier days were also of no small use. She could tell how drunk a turian was just by looking at her, knowing if "just one more" would be one too many. She knew if the batarian would pull a knife, or back down. She could discern lies even in the uninflected tones of elcor, who contrary to popular belief, didn't always tell the truth about how they were feeling.

The bartending trade itself had taught her a thing or two as well. No one who ever said "surprise me" to their bartender actually wanted to be surprised. Hanar would only drink beverages whose ingredients had been constituted through a biological process, no self respecting hanar would ever touch a synthesized mindfish oil. Volus could "taste" the purity of the sulfur gas they consumed for intoxication, giving an additional layer of meaning to the adage "you can't cheat a volus."

And humans? Humans would drink any damn thing you put in front of them, the crazier, the better. Tell a human he couldn't handle a batarian liquor, and he'd take it as a challenge, biology be damned. She shook her head at a particularly nasty memory. She'd cleaned up more human vomit in the last thirty years than the output of all the other races combined.

By Athame's blessed blue ass, humans had not impressed her a great deal over recent years.

"Fucking humans," she huffed under her breath for the third time in as many minutes. Humans, one particular human at any rate, was why she was stuck here on Illium. That human was why she was playing kiss-ass to the Conclave, an occupation that annoyed her to no end. Why she'd wasted her valuable time cleaning up this shithole of a bar. Why she found herself actually caring how the place looked after the dinner rush. Why it mattered to her if they had enough akantha on hand for when the trading floor closed and happy hour began. Why for the first time in over a century, she saw her daughter almost every day.

All right, that last part wasn't so bad. Pretty good actually, despite how warped the two of them had managed to make their seemingly endless series of non-interactions.

It was more than a little weird how easily she'd slipped into these patterns of behavior, actually running the bar like she gave a shit.

It wasn't all above board. She was still Aethyta, after all. Even though she didn't have a cut of Tinoke's dealings to rely on any longer, white collar crime paid even better.

Since that girl of hers couldn't find it within herself to just pick a favorite spot and park her ass there every day, she'd had to bug every damn table in the place. An annoying effort that ended up paying dividends when the traders started drinking at the end of the day's trading.

Securities traders all loved to brag. A little booze just made them that much more careless. At the rate she was going, getting her accumulating wealth out of Illium's tax jurisdiction was going to be something of a chore.

She shook her head, not believing that she'd gotten to the point where she was even concerned about something so mundane. Since when did she care about bureaucracy?

' _Today will be the day,'_ decided Aethyta with that thought, resolving to finally talk to Liara, persuade her to wrap up whatever business she had here, and go home. Best do it now, before she truly became what she was pretending to be. Before they both did.

There might have been more hope for that resolution to be true if she hadn't made it every day for nearly four months now.

Still, she meant it just as much today as she always did.

But it had been so damn easy to settle into this routine.

She'd been kept away from Liara for over a century. Over a hundred years of listening to others relay stories about her daughter, hearing about the events in her life that she hadn't been present for. Her first word, first step, first meld. So many firsts lost to time, not even shared through a bondmate's memory.

It was nearly sixty years now since she'd started keeping tabs on her through various clandestine methods. Liara leaving the protective bubble of the estate had allowed Aethyta some opportunity to learn about the daughter she'd never met. One small benefit to Liara's falling out with her mother, something she'd never forgive Benezia for.

She rubbed even harder on the bar as she thought of Benezia, mind traveling down well worn avenues.

That should have been it, promises be damned, but instead university was another opportunity missed. Liara shouldn't have had to face the galaxy alone, not while still so young. Aethyta couldn't match Benezia's resources, but she goddess damned well could easily have covered Liara's education. Maybe a tidy little apartment in Serrice, close to the college. A refuge from the rigors of study and sport, where a young maiden could unwind, perhaps even entertain. A place she might even show off to her mother, proof that a daughter's insistence on following her own path didn't come at the expense of her quality of life.

' _You did what?'_ Aethyta could almost hear Benezia's derogatory tone as she imagined her finding out that Aethyta had intervened in their child's life. _'I thought I made it clear…'_ Aethyta shook her head as she broke off the imagined reprimand. After so many years Benezia still occupied a significant amount of her headspace. Not surprising, given that she couldn't think of another person who had ever been able to get her to do anything against her will.

And to think, there was a time when she thought she'd get over her bondmate. Tevos would laugh her ass off if she knew she never had. "It serves you right," she'd say.

And she wouldn't be wrong.

But who could forget her? Benezia's power hadn't been limited to the political, the financial, or even the philosophical. She was the only person Aethyta'd ever known whose will rivaled her own. It was only fitting that their daughter's stubborn streak quite possibly exceeded them both.

That streak was at least part of the reason that mother and daughter had not reconciled before Benezia's death. Given Liara's recent set of life choices, and Aethyta's own disreputable past, the likelihood of Liara also never forming a close relationship with her father was also an increasing possibility.

A thought that Aethyta found unacceptable.

' _That's it. Today really will be the day,'_ she reaffirmed as she reached for a glass to polish. Decades of habit kept her hands busy as her thoughts wandered.

And her thoughts did have time to wander these days. There wasn't much to think about when tending bar.

But it was comfortable, an easy existence. For the first time since leaving Benezia, she had something to look forward to in Liara's near-daily visits. She felt rested, happy. Smiles came easily, something else which hadn't happened for a very long time. Her days had never been so bright as when Liara would walk into the bar. Aethyta could watch her for hours, the maiden working over some pad while her dinner grew cold, wine untouched at her elbow.

She was even starting to get a bit of a reputation for being the "friendly" bartender at Eternity.

Then, once Liara would leave, Aethyta would as well, finally allowing the following shift to do their job.

Day done, she'd stop for some some krogan takeout, or perhaps some Kahje steakfish if she felt like treating herself, and head home to her apartment. Where once she might have tried to catch the end of the skyball game, or an episode of Thessian Nights, now she'd watch the vids that her hacks into the Nos Astra public surveillance system had collected of Liara's day.

' _Fuck, I'm getting pathetic,'_ she thought. _'No way today isn't the day.'_

Eternity was easy, but also getting boring. Monotony dogged at her heels, punctuated by the intense bouts of anxious joy she felt whenever Liara would visit. Such times being when their dance of feigned ignorance would begin anew. Combat she could face. Talking to her daughter…

Well, it wasn't like Liara was talking to her either.

Liara's visits did have positive impact, besides putting a smile on Aethyta's face and forcing her to reevaluate some of her life choices. Take her environment, for instance.

Cleaning up the bar had been as easy as she'd expected it to be. She hadn't lied to Shiala about that. The bar's resident troublemakers hadn't known the meaning of the word "rough", and she'd been more than happy to introduce it to them. No challenge at all, really. Most only required the mildest of persuasion before they agreed not to return. Persuasion, and the occasional broken nose.

She hadn't permanently injured any of them. It wouldn't have been sporting. She shook her head at the memory. Infants, all of them, terrified of an old woman. If she ever needed to assemble a crew she knew where not to look. And here everyone said only the strong thrived on Illium. Pathetic.

The better connected among the criminal element in Nos Astra knew who she was of course, even if they didn't know why she was here. She had contemporaries who were still in the business. Not that any of them ever came to Eternity or offered her the courtesy she was due. Nassana had even managed to snub her twice. There was a time that would have bothered her more, but Dantius was cruel, not smart, and Aethyta wasn't actually looking for trouble.

That was one problem she had with staying on an asari world this long. People had long memories, even on a colony as young as Illium. That made it more difficult to keep the low profile she'd come to prefer in the years since her time with Benezia. She'd gotten used to operating behind the scenes.

That didn't stop her from being amused at the speculation among the more watchful criminals. Some of the more conceited among them thought she was here for them. She'd had a good laugh about that one with Tinoke, before she told him he'd have to take his business somewhere else.

He'd taken it well. Good news for all concerned. She liked the salarian, but had never made it a habit to leave a trail of living enemies in her wake. Now the possibility existed that they could work together again someday. It wasn't personal, just business. He even sent her a gift, which she'd destroyed unopened.

She might be getting soft, but she wasn't an idiot.

Eternity had been like a new bar after that. And if her new clientele was slightly more stupid, slightly less legitimate than she'd led Shiala to believe, that wasn't exactly her fault.

Besides, if you were going to cater to criminals, better the ones that fired lawsuits instead of bullets.

Liara was to blame there too. The damn kid couldn't be like a normal bar patron, with a regular schedule. No, she had to come in at all hours, just like she sat all over the goddess damned place.

Always keeping her back to the bar. She'd had to get pretty creative there a couple of times.

Sevleta nudged her with an elbow as she passed, causing Aethyta to look up in time to see Liara enter. She nodded her acknowledgment as Sevleta moved out onto the floor. The matron was good, probably too good. She'd never told the waitress what her relationship was with Liara, but she was probably smart enough to have figured it out for herself.

For the first time, Liara wasn't alone. She had another maiden in tow. The maiden was older, within a decade or two of 230, Aethyta guessed. A little taller and a bit more muscular than her diminutive daughter.

' _Girlfriend,'_ was her first thought. It seemed a reasonable guess, if a bit on the hopeful side. For asari who were attracted to other asari, yet felt pressured to abide by the cultural norms of the day, human women were a gift from Athame. For a maiden like Liara who had grown up relatively sheltered, it made sense that she wouldn't be terribly adventurous when it came to relationships. A human was probably at the outer edge of her comfort zone.

And now, losing a lover in the manner she's lost her idiot spectre, Aethyta could see Liara running back to the familiarity of another asari.

Aethyta studied the other maiden with a father's eye, and wasn't impressed.

Not that Liara flaunted her wealth, but she wondered if this kid had any. Her clothes consisted of a loose fitting green top paired with nondescript black pants. Her shoes were scuffed and worn. She wasn't carrying a bag.

The shirt matched her eyes, so some taste there at least, but her slightly misshapen crest looked like she'd spent the afternoon trying to scour a bad dye job out of it.

She peered closer. That was it! The barest hint of a yellow stripe was barely visible against the dark blue of the maiden's crest. The stripe was down the left side, right where an Eclipse sister would wear one. Aethyta's impression of the maiden dropped another notch as she glanced at Liara. Not that she wanted her daughter dating a spectre, some pretty questionable morality there, but Eclipse? The last few centuries had seen them decline to the point where they weren't much above the level of a street gang.

' _We'll see about this,'_ thought Aethyta as she opened her omni-tool and activated the microphone on table twelve.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Liara silently sipped her tea. She'd ordered for them both, Carvkae simply nodding in acceptance of Liara's alien selections.

She'd deliberately kept her comments to a minimum since leaving the warehouse with Carvkae in tow. She had no intention of having this conversation twice.

Her companion's obvious discomfort was one side effect of Liara's silence. Carvkae was fidgeting more now than she'd been in the handful of hours since they'd left the warehouse. Her former anchor had been remarkably obedient as Liara had dragged her around Nos Astra to buy clothing, new false identification, and have her crest dyed back to a close approximation of its natural color.

Liara watched her failed assassin as the maiden tried to make sense of the situation she found herself in. It had taken Carvkae some time to believe that Liara truly wasn't going to kill her, despite her assurances. Once she'd come to think that she was actually going to live through the day, she'd stopped begging, and maintained an uneasy silence, following Liara's direction without protest or discussion.

All of which meant it was up to Liara to make sure she actually did live through the day.

Carvkae had never been one to hold her tongue for very long, Liara remembered. It was probable that only the circumstances of their encounter had motivated her to maintain her relative silence for as long as she had.

If Liara had known that sparing her life would have finally gotten Carvkae to shut up, she would have tried it when they were still at university. The thought caused her to lift one corner of her mouth around her mug in the beginnings of a smile.

The expression was enough to provide Carvkae with enough encouragement to finally speak.

"I'm sorry I tried to kill you," Carvkae began in a whisper, flinching as a glass shattered somewhere behind Liara.

Liara's smile widened the smallest amount at the sound, confirming her suspicion that the tables were bugged. She placed her tea on the table. "Is that why you came to Illium, Carvkae? To kill me?" Liara stopped herself before going any further. She was here to save Carvkae. Too much curiosity might have the opposite effect.

"No Liara," Carvkae's eyes were still focused on the commotion behind her. "I've been on Illium about twenty years, on and off. I got here long before you did."

"I had no idea." Liara suddenly felt remorse at losing touch with the other maiden so completely. "If I'd known…"

"You don't need to lie," interrupted Carvkae morosely. "I knew you were here. It's not like you aren't famous or anything. It isn't like it doesn't make the news when the asari bondmate of the first human spectre sets up an information brokerage on Illium. Especially when she's Benezia's daughter."

"You should have…"

"Should have what?" Carvkae cut her off again. "Stopped by your office for tea?" She continued sullenly as she nodded in the direction of Liara's mug. "Let you tell me again how much I annoy you? How much you hate me?"

"Oh Carvkae, I don't hate you. How could you think that?" She lowered her voice. "Is that why you accepted the contract?"

Carvkae bowed her head. "No." She took a breath. "This was my last chance, last opportunity to prove myself, but I would never have accepted the contract if I'd known it was you. You know that." Her voice dropped back to a whisper. "Of course you know that. You were my best friend."

Liara almost had to blink back tears at this disclosure. Her best friend? Her? They were teammates, and goddess knew that as her anchor, she saw more of Carvkae than anyone else during her undergrad, but her best friend? Liara's mind raced back to how they'd met, their time together at university, and finally, how they'd parted.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

" _Coach met with the scouts from Dassus this morning." Liara didn't even turn away from her terminal when Carvkae charged into her dorm room, so used to the behavior she'd become._

" _That's nice," she replied absently when it became obvious that Carvkae was expecting a response._

" _Nice? Nice! That's all you can say? It's Dassus! You know what that means? We're being recruited! We won't even need to go through the draft process! They want us now! Today!"_

 _Liara finally looked up at that. "I do not know what you are talking about." She blinked tiredly at Carvkae before waving listlessly at stack of pads in front of her. "I am sorry. I've been up all night preparing my thesis proposal for approval." She paused for a moment. "But you knew I would not be able to continue playing once I started my postgraduate studies. We discussed this." She turned away, the matter settled._

 _Carvkae grabbed Liara by the shoulders, and spun her in her chair. "You're not paying attention! I'm not talking about the university!" She shouted excitedly. "This is Dassus! This is professional ball!"_

" _Congratulations?" Liara replied confusedly, not certain how this related to her._

" _To both of us!" Confirmed Carvkae, convinced that Liara understood at last. "This is our big break! Dassus fielded a championship team last year, and the year before!"_

" _We won the championships last year," Liara corrected. "We won the planetary championships seven years in a row. Serrice." She pointed at the floor._

 _Carvkae just rolled her eyes. "We're the collegiate champions, sure. Dassus won the professional championships."_

 _Understanding began to pierce her exhaustion. "Oh Carvkae, I'm so happy for you. I know you wanted this."_

" _Happy for us," Carvkae replied. "Us! We're a set, anchor and wing."_

" _No," Liara shook her head slowly, worry setting in as Carvkae's unwavering intent become clear. "I told you I would not declare eligibility. I need to focus on my postgraduate work."_

" _I know! That's the good news! You only need to declare eligibility for the draft. That's next year. They want to recruit us this year, for the fall season!" Carvkae was clearly missing the point. Innocently or deliberately, Liara couldn't tell._

" _I have no intention of playing skyball professionally," said Liara flatly, trying to pierce Carvkae's denial of the fact. "I have been clear about that from the very beginning."_

" _Sure, sure" cajoled Carvkae teasingly. "You said you weren't gonna play college ball either, and you ended up being defensive MVP three different years. You're the best midwing Serrice's seen in decades. You can't deny that this is what you're meant to do." She stopped at the look of intensity on Liara's face. "What? You can always come back to the university in thirty or forty years after you break a few records."_

" _I know nothing about what I am 'meant' to do, Carvkae." She paused, making sure she had her teammate's full attention. "What I desire," stressed Liara, "is to finish my doctorate." Her voice turned to the same icy tone she used when Benezia had forbade her to attend a public university. "Now. Not later. Not after playing a game. This is my life, and my choice."_

" _But," began Carvkae, fear in her voice, "They'll never recruit me without you. They won't draft an anchor without her wing."_

" _That is not my concern," responded Liara coldly._

" _Not your concern?" Carvkae's previous excitement turned to tears. "What are you talking about? We're a pair. You've been my wing for ten years!"_

" _As you have been my anchor," confirmed Liara. "But in all that time, I was always clear that this was a temporary arrangement."_

" _But I've always been able to convince you to play for one more year!" Argued Carvkae._

" _That was your plan? You expected to 'one more year' me for four more decades?"_

" _No," lied Carvkae. "But it isn't all that long, really. Probably less. There wouldn't be scouts on campus if they didn't already have endorsement deals lined up. It won't take long to get some money put away. You probably wouldn't even have to go back to school…"_

" _How can you not understand?" Liara was shouting now. "I had money! I gave it up to come here! My education isn't a consolation prize or a fallback position. I could be at my mother's side right now if I wanted to sell my passions for credits!"_

 _Carvkae stepped back as if slapped. "That's how you really feel? You aren't coming?"_

" _How can you ask that? Have you never listened to me?"_

" _I don't understand. You were always so good…"_

" _I never loved sk_ _yball like you do. I was good at it, but it was a means to an end. If I could have supplemented my academic scholarship another way, I would have. Now that I have access to grant funding. I do not need it anymore."_

" _What about me, Liara? You don't need me anymore either?"_

" _I never_ needed _you, Carvkae. I am sorry. You will have to find another wing."_

 _Liara interrupted before Carvkae could speak again. "Please leave. I have a great deal of studying to do."_

 _Carvkae just stared at her for a moment, incredulous, then finally turned and departed without another word._

That was the last time Liara saw her for forty-eight years.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

She looked across the table at Carvkae, now seeing her earlier behavior as betrayal. As Carvkae must have seen it. Carvkae's 'best friend' had turned on her, for reasons she didn't understand. It didn't matter that the ignorance was likely willful, the result must have been crushing. As far as Liara could remember, skyball was all Carvkae had.

There might have been some willful ignorance on Liara's part as well. Surely she knew Carvkae's expectations. In ten years she'd never even suggested that the anchor should work with another wing. Carvkae probably thought that Liara's oft-repeated denials were nothing more than theatre for when she didn't want to practice.

Liara was ashamed.

"I never hated you, Carvkae." She reached out and took the other maiden's hand. "I understand why you think that, and I am sorry. I was selfish, and rude. You deserved better."

Carvkae brightened a little at that. "You didn't hate me?"

"No," nodded Liara. "I hope you can forgive me."

"I forgave you long ago. You were honest with me all along. I just didn't listen."

"But you kept convincing me to play. I let you think you always could."

They grinned at each other.

"I don't suppose you still…" began Carvkae.

"No," replied Liara with a smile. "But I'm glad you see you haven't lost your sense of humor."

Carvkae snorted. "It's all I've had, really. There isn't much you can do with an athletic training degree if you never made any contacts in the professional circles. Coach Maeor offered me a position on staff, but I couldn't bring myself to accept." She shrugged. "I'd always been the star."

"Where did you go?" Asked Liara.

"Here and there," Carvkae equivocated.

"Carvkae…"

"I stayed in Serrice for awhile. I still had my popularity."

"I remember." The anchor had had quite the following among the younger maidens.

"There were clubs, especially close to campus, where a star athlete could count on a free meal, or free booze. Especially on game days. Word would get out and they might get a few dozen more customers." She waited for Liara's nod. "'I watched the Armali game with Carvkae last night,' that kind of thing."

"That couldn't have lasted for long," prompted Liara.

Carvkae's self-deprecating shrug reminded Liara of Shepard. "It lasted longer than I thought it would, honestly. Free food at the clubs became girls who might buy the fading star a drink, became trying to find a place to spend the night."

"Oh, Carvkae."

"I hadn't quite hit bottom when I ran into Ralith." She looked at Liara to ensure she recognized the name. "But I was close. She was on Thessia for a contract. She bought me lunch, said she'd vouch for me." She chuckled. "Said it'd be just like old times, when we played together." She took a drink of her tea, nearly cold now. "Funny thing was, I barely remembered playing with her at all. She never finished the first season I started playing for Serrice."

"And that is how you joined Eclipse."

"Kinda. For a long time I was more her sidekick than anything else. Her contract on Thessia was to pick up some red sand for delivery on the Citadel. Citadel security was taken care of. Pineios, there she needed a distraction." She took another sip of tea before picking at the food that arrived while she'd been speaking. "I was it. 'Look. Isn't that Carvkae?'" She shrugged again. "Went pretty well. She gave me some credits, and sent me on my way. That worked for a couple of years until people stopped recognizing me."

"What happened then?"

"There were still times she needed a distraction, or someone able to get in someone's way while she was making an escape. She'd do her work, and kept me in enough credits to keep a roof over my head."

"But now you're here."

"She got promoted. More than once. No more field work. That meant I could come here, and officially join her Eclipse cell, or I could stay on Thessia. If I chose to stay there wouldn't be any more side jobs to keep the credits coming."

"And so you chose to come to Illium."

"I didn't have much of a choice. Not many jobs for former college athletes. Of course I came."

"And now you're an assassin?" Aethyta hadn't stormed over to the table so far, so Liara felt comfortable being blunt.

"Nah," she chuckled. "You were supposed to be the first."

"Your first time and they sent you out on your own?"

"Apparently the target's pretty scary," she confided with a wink. "If I made the hit, I'd be buying my way back into Ralith's good graces."

"And if not?"

"Then I wouldn't be a pain in her ass anymore."

"I do not understand."

"Look, she vouched for me, right? Ralith's pretty high up now, has her own lieutenants and everything. Her reputation's important."

Liara nodded for her to continue.

"But me, I'm a fuckup."

"I don't believe that."

"Look at it like this. I'm a good distraction, well, because I'm distracting."

"I remember," said Liara with a smile.

"You get it. That's fine when you're trying to draw attention to yourself. Not so much when you're trying not to."

"That makes sense," replied Liara. Why didn't they just pair you up with someone else, like you did with Ralith?"

"I found out later she looked me up because the sister she was partnered with got herself killed. Everyone else, it was just like us. Anchor and wing. They'd all worked together for decades. No one wanted to break in a new partner."

Liara looked away, embarrassed again.

"That left solo work for me, and I was shit at it."

"That doesn't make any sense. You were an athlete. You're strong, coordinated, have good spatial awareness…" Liara trailed off as Carvkae shook her head.

"I didn't say I was clumsy, for goddess' sake. I said I was shit at solo work. I can't walk into some struggling shopkeeper's store and shake her down for protection money while her kids stare at me from around some doorway." She raised her hands in supplication. "I like people. Working with Ralith was easy. I just had to be nice. Smile. Talk to people. No one got hurt."

"Except the people who Eclipse sold the drugs to."

"Yeah, except them."

"So, you went from being a 'nice' gang member, to an extortionist with a conscience, to an assassin?" Liara asked incredulously.

"That's why Ralith was annoyed. She vouched for me, and I wasn't pulling my weight. This hit was supposed to take care of that, one way or another."

"One hit was supposed to take care of twenty years of you annoying her?"

"Goddess, I just realized. You're the target! Do you have any idea how large a bounty is on your head?"

"I have some idea," murmured Liara as she waited to hear if another glass would break.

Carvkae paled. "By now they'll know your alive."

"Possibly," conceded Liara.

"What in the goddess' name are you into Liara, that there are people taking out eight digit contracts on you? You were going to be an archaeologist!"

This time another glass did shatter.

"It doesn't matter."

"Now they'll be after me too! I'm supposed to be dead! Now I really will be!" She started to rise.

"Sit down, Carvkae," said Liara calmly. "Eat your dinner. Human food is expensive on Illium."

"I need to get out of here."

"And you will." Liara entered some information into her omni-tool, before waving it over Carvkae's. "You're going to Thessia. I have a ship waiting. You'll go straight from here to the docks, and when you arrive, Anedra will tell you what to do."

"You don't understand. Eclipse will come for me."

"No, they won't." Liara spoke clearly, enunciating carefully. "You will have no further dealings with Eclipse, and they will never bother you again."

"You're not making any sense. You don't have that kind of power."

"Not directly."

"Then…"

"Come," Liara stood. "Perhaps you are right. It is time to go." She indicated Carvkae should get up as well. "I'll walk with you to the docks."

Carvkae looked askance at her. "You aren't going to kill me, are you?"

"No one dies today, Carvkae. I promise."

She led her out of the bar.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

' _That. Fucking. Kid.'_ Thought Aethyta. This was _not_ how this was supposed to work. She angrily activated her omni-tool as she stepped into the back room.

"Caliri Transport," came the response.

"Get me Ralith," growled Aethyta.

"I don't know who the fuck you think you are," began the voice.

"Shut up and get her."

"How about I just disconnect?"

"You'll be dead before midnight."

"Are you threatening me?"

"It's a fucking passphrase, you idiot. Get me Ralith!"

"Oh. Yeah, sorry. That's an old one…" began the maiden on the other end.

"Why are you still talking?"

The line went silent.

After a moment an older sounding voice came on the line.

"Ralith."

"You got a kid working for you, two-twenty, two-thirty, little too friendly, name Carvkae?"

"Aethyta?"

"Just answer the damn question."

"She's out on a job." A chuckle. "Goddess, I never thought I'd hear your voice again."

"That job didn't work out." Aethyta interjected before Ralith had a change to get chatty.

"She's dead?"

"Missed the target. Decided to get out of the business. Let her go."

Silence.

"I can't do that."

"You sure?" Aethyta paused. "Before you answer, are you absolutely certain?"

"Look, I can't just…"

"You're in charge, or you're not. Let me know which so I know who to talk to when I come over there."

"This sets a bad precedent, Aethyta."

"I don't give a fuck what it sets. Anything happens to that kid, it's on you."

"Sederis is going to hear about this."

"Good luck with that. You tell Sederis you spoke to me, once she pisses her pants she'll kill you as a potential threat." She paused again. "We clear on the kid?"

"We're clear." The comm dropped. Aethyta deactivated her omni.

She stepped back into the bar, where Sevleta was still clearing Liara's table.

' _Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be the day,'_ Aethyta promised herself.

Today she'd spend learning who'd taken out a contract on her daughter.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Shepard ressurection

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	12. Encounters

**Summary:**

Where Miranda has interactions with former members of the Normandy crew.

 **Reference:**

For a change we have no specific callbacks. Some oblique reference to events references in "Secrets" in the drabbles.

* * *

"What the hell was that?" Joker pulled the shuttle into a hard bank. Normally he hated the inertial dampening that took the immediacy away from aerial combat, making it feel more like a video game than anything else. Today it was all that was preventing him from becoming a screaming mass of compound fractures.

"Keep your attention on your console, Pilot," came the somewhat out of breath reply from the now open hatch behind him.

"Sorry. I was distracted by avoiding the incoming fire and the trying not to die," replied Joker, his words punctuated by the fading sounds of impacts to their shields.

"Don't worry about those. We'll be out of weapons range in just a moment, and the facility had nothing faster than a few maintenance pods." Miranda entered the cockpit in a nose assaulting wave of ozone and carbon.

"Good thing. I can't believe you had me flying an unarmed shuttle in a hot zone." He shook his head, now beyond caring if she saw. "Not the most 'perfect' decision you know."

"When I want your opinion," began Miranda as she slid into the co-pilot's seat. and began accessing the shuttle's status monitors. "Never mind. I'll never want your opinion." She began brushing herself off.

"Your loss. I have lots of opinions. You might be surprised." Joker took a deep breath as the adrenaline started to leave his system. He took a moment to review their current heading. He decided on a minor course correction. "Eighteen minutes to the relay," he announced as the shuttle assumed the modified course.

Miranda ignored the update. "Somehow I doubt that." She paused for a moment, remembering The Illusive Man's reminder that she would have to work with this man. She rarely explained herself to others, and never an underling. Still…

"However, in response to your comment, Pilot," Miranda continued, as she began to explain her actions as they related to the parameters of the nearly concluded mission, "They would never have allowed us to dock had we been visibly armed."

"You went in armed," Joker nodded at the Carnifex at her hip. "I guess that doesn't count?"

"Had I gone in appearing unable to defend myself, they would have been just as suspicious," she went on. "I've been through any number of clandestine exchanges, Pilot. The kind of people who trade in stolen knowledge and matériel tend to have rather specific security concerns."

"Uh huh." Joker shook his head. "And I bet every one of those 'exchanges' end with you blowing yourself out of an open airlock with nothing but a barrier between you and vacuum." Joker had developed an intense aversion to vacuum for a career spacer.

"It provided the benefit of surprise. Without a hardsuit, they believed that leaving the hangar open to space left me without an escape path." She straightened up, having brushed off most of the grime that she'd released by detonating the airlock controls. "And opening the corridor to vacuum was a practical defensive tactic once Pojkoy's men opened fire."

The Cerberus operative began wiping a cloth across her face, removing the worst of the soot and perspiration, before stopping suddenly. "Is FTL not available?" The question was sharp, albeit slightly muffled.

"In an asteroid field?" Joker looked over in time to get a burning glare in return. "This system isn't exactly well mapped, and the sensors on this crate are barely consumer grade." He waved at his console. "There isn't a navigation VI, and the imbedded nav subroutines are barely worthy of the name." He looked back at Miranda. "So no, Your Highness, FTL is 'not available'. If we tried we'd end up like a bug on a windshield, and wouldn't get your important information back to your boss."

"Unfortunate," she commented flatly. "I had hoped to put more distance between us and the base."

Miranda leaned forward to get close to the view panels in an effort to see as much of the space outside the shuttle as possible. "And that's our boss, Mister Moreau. Ours. The Illusive Man may appear to be tolerant of your lack of deference, but I assure you, he is not. I recommend that you conduct yourself in a more professional manner when in his presence." She sat back and activated her omni-tool, making swift calculations.

"Yeah, yeah. He's the 'big scary' guy.", Joker punctuated his words with air quotes. "For someone whose ops seem to get people killed, he seems like a laid back guy." He wanted for a nonexistent response. "It isn't like there's much he can do to me at this point anyway."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Mister Moreau," corrected Miranda.

"If he's going to keep sending me out with you, it probably isn't going to matter for long. I don't know where you trained, but suicide isn't a typical mission parameter."

"He did say that you had expressed boredom with 'milk runs,' as you put it, and I was never in any danger."

"Bullshit. Even under fire people don't run out of open airlocks unless…"

"Change course to 315," she interrupted.

"Why?" He asked, even as his hands flew over his controls to enter the updated course. Hesitation was not a typical shortcoming for an Alliance pilot.

Miranda answered with a glare. "Do you have to question every order?"

"Only the ones that don't make any sense," he pointed at the planetoid whose surface they were now skimming. "Like when I'm told to hug the deck for no apparent reason." He swung wide to avoid a rocky protuberance. "The plan was supposed to be to keep our distance from these rocks, not scrape the paint off the hull." He glanced over at Miranda again, where the Cerberus operative's lips were moving as she counted silently.

"Was it something I said?"

"Ninety degrees deck angle, Pilot. Take us straight up, perpendicular to the surface." Her response sounded bored, almost languid.

"Thanks Mom," Joker grumbled as he climbed away from the planetoid. "I know what deck angle means." The rocky surface fell away behind them. "Any other requests for this airshow, or do you just like giving orders?"

"Brace for impact."

" _Really?_ " Joker sealed the hatch to the passenger compartment without looking up. "What the hell! I was kidding!" He added as he saw to his own pressure integrity. "Do all of your operations go this well, or is this a special case?" The bubble helmet did nothing to soften his angry tone.

"Quiet, Mister Moreau," came the reply. Miranda was again encased in her barrier, just as she'd been during her dash across the base's shuttle bay. "Three. Two. One."

The shuttle rocked slightly, like turbulence in atmosphere. The pair watched as debris of all sizes from boulder down to grains of sand flew past them, filling the space around the shuttle. Joker kept their course centered in the cone of protection provided by the massive asteroid at their backs.

" _You blew it up!? The entire base?"_ Joker was incredulous. "I thought these guys were supposed to be on our side?"

"They were paid to be on our side. As you saw, they attempted to modify the conditions of the transaction." Miranda settled back against her seat as she deactivated her 'tool. "I objected."

"You objected? So you sabotaged their base? I guess you really don't believe in second chances."

Miranda sighed. It was not her habit to explain herself, but events appeared to conspire to require it lately. First Jacob, who had wanted complete transparency before joining her team, and now Moreau. The former lieutenant was a resource they couldn't afford to alienate, given their plans. The Illusive Man repeatedly referred to him as a "superb" and "gifted" flyer, and he was not a man given to bouts of hyperbole.

She assumed as bored a tone as possible. "The opportunity presented itself. There was always the possibility that Pojkoy would refuse to deliver the data he promised. I came prepared to break into their systems to extract it myself." She shrugged as she indicated her forearm where her omni-tool would be, if it were active. "I needed a diversion while I did so. Venting the base's reactor coolant into space provided one." Now she sounded smug. "They brought it on themselves, really."

"No wonder they started shooting at you. You seem pretty calm about the whole thing." Joker removed his helmet, the expanding debris cloud now safely behind them. "I can't say that I would have been if I'd had to run across a hangar bay without a suit, biotics or no biotics."

"I was never…" she began.

"In any danger. Right. I wish I hadn't been." He opened the hatch separating the cockpit from the cabin. "All systems nominal. I hope that data's everything you're hoping for."

"It is, Mister Moreau. The information they had stolen will set us ahead months."

"Only months?" Joker scoffed. "Seems pretty expensive for that small a leap."

"The expense would be if we did not gain this information, Pilot. Several of our 'enhancement' technologies are only as effective as the subject's ability to use them in the field." She paused, trying to evaluate how best to explain. "If a soldier with enhanced musculature literally tears himself apart when using it, the enhancements are obviously of no use." When Joker didn't replay, she continued. "Think of it like putting a dreadnaught thruster on a shuttle. As soon as you ignite, you destroy the shuttle."

"No, I got it. I just didn't like the visual." Joker had to admit that this disclosure meshed well with the reports that Cerberus was trying to create supersoldiers. "So these are healing factors? Like the Alliance gene mods?"

"Nothing so unimaginative." As the leader of the Lazarus cell, she was in her element now. "We're not talking about anything as uninspired as mere increased clotting factors or pain abatement. No, think about soldiers with unbreakable bones, perhaps even so far as to include medi-gel conduits for self-healing." Her excitement started to show. "Or micro-fibers woven directly into the muscles, eliminating the potential for damage from overexertion."

"Uh huh."

"Some of these procedures might even help you someday. How would you feel if tomorrow you had bones that couldn't be broken?"

"Look, you guys are the only ones who are trying to fight the Reapers even a little bit. That's why I'm here. You don't need to try to sell me on the benefits of working for Cerberus."

"So overcoming your condition has no appeal to you?" Miranda's enthusiasm had dampened, and her air of superiority returned. "I doubt that, Mister Moreau." She decided not to remind him that leaving the Alliance had not been his choice.

"I never said it didn't have appeal. I just don't know that I could live with myself afterwards."

"You don't want to owe a debt to Cerberus?"

"I don't care about Cerberus. I don't want to owe a debt to Admiral Kahoku and his men."

"There may come a time when that's a price you're willing to pay, Mister Moreau. War seldom leaves us the ability to stick unfailingly to our principles."

"Shepard did. She never compromised who she was."

"And look what it got her."

The two glared at each other, until Joker finally looked away.

"Eight minutes to the relay."

"Acknowledged."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Dr. Karin Chakwas drew her head back with a sigh as she deactivated her omni-tool. She'd finally logged herself as off duty. She turned her head back and forth, as she tried to alleviate some of the stiffness in her neck. As much as she loved the opportunity to take shifts in the ER, they were exhausting.

Today she'd had the added stress of anticipating another message from her mysterious informant.

Which was why she'd been atypically businesslike as she performed the shift handover, a medical ritual virtually unchanged in over a century.

There had been no unusual commentary from Dr. Piper, just cursory acknowledgement of the key items on the checklist. The physician's function in shift change procedures weren't nearly as detailed as those followed by the nursing staff anyway. Both doctors were aware that if Piper had any questions after Chakwas' departure, he would direct them to the charge nurse or nursing supervisor, not to her.

Her formal duties discharged for the moment, she considered her informal ones as she left the Alliance compound in Shalta Ward on her way to her apartment in Bachjret. No one commented on the swiftness of her pace through the pedestrian thoroughfare. She was in a hurry to be sure, but so was everyone else. This was the Citadel, after all.

It was odd, really. After nine months of spending the majority of her time on the station, she still had yet to grow accustomed to living here. She simply didn't consider herself to be that cosmopolitan. The Citadel was nothing if not impressive, but she preferred ships. Warships, to be specific. So long had she been used to living out of a locker and a sleeper pod, that she'd had no idea how to live in a metropolis. Honestly, she hadn't wanted to learn.

Fortunately for her, her issues weren't the normal ones for humans newly residing on the station. Neither the crowds, nor the diversity were a problem for her. She'd performed surgery in spaces more crowded than the pedestrian walkway she was currently walking down. As for the diversity, if her time on the Normandy hadn't helped already, the shifts she was taking at Huerta Memorial (she chucked again at the name, wondering where the Supreme Court was going to land on that one), were adding to the high regard the was held in as an inter-species medical professional.

Most of her problem was with how little time she spent actually _working_. She needed to be busy. _Usefully_ busy. As a doctor preferably, or as a researcher at the minimum. Fortunately there was more use for her medical expertise on the Citadel than there was on Mars.

She hadn't been enamored with being assigned to the Mars Naval Medical Center. She'd made no secret of the fact that she would have preferred a shipboard posting, no matter that it would be a professional step down from CMO of such a large facility. When Jeff walked away from the Alliance without a backward glance, leaving her without her other special patient to care for, she even considered retiring.

But when the human councilor asks you to stay close, and an Alliance admiral personally has orders cut that allow you to do just that, there are some things that a mere major simply doesn't question.

Not that she didn't want to.

So now, despite still being attached to the MNMC, she was lucky to spend one week in four back at Acidalia Planitia. There was always one more symposium to attend, one more consultation asked of her. Even Sha'ira reached out from time to time. In addition to the occasional formal tea, the Consort and had provided her with access to more asari medical data than had probably been seen by any other human.

It all seemed very contrived.

Admiral Hacked also checked in with her occasionally, much to her surprise. He provided updates on Liara's condition every time he met with the young archaeologist. She appreciated the gesture, even as she was still somewhat irritated with Liara herself for not staying in contact. She understood why the asari didn't, but that didn't make her happy about it.

David, on the other hand, talked to her nearly every day. Early on their coffees and lunches had included Lieutenant Alenko, but now Kaidan was away on a 'classified' mission. Anderson, damn him, feigned ignorance as to where the boy'd gone and what he was doing.

She knew full well that he was keeping tabs on as much of the former crew of the Normandy as he could. The human contingent, at any rate. Garrus had seemingly dropped off the map, and although Tali sent detailed letters on a weekly basis, they were usually long on gossip and short on facts. It didn't keep her from enjoying them.

That left Wrex, who as far as she knew was still on Tuchanka. Shepard had had a soft spot for the krogan, but Karin had never grown close to him. Still, she hoped he was doing all right.

And Jeff.

Jeff was the reason that she was walking so quickly, dodging her way through the crowds. Her teal lab coat fluttering behind her in a poor impression of a cape.

It had been months now since she'd come home from a late shift at Huerta Memorial to find the a message waiting for her on her terminal. That was unusual enough to be worthy of note. As far as she could remember, she hadn't given anyone the code for her home terminal. Like most officers, she conducted her routine communication from her omni-tool, only using a terminal for those communications that required a specific security protocol that her 'tool didn't support. She wouldn't use a home terminal for that anyway.

In this case, the mysterious message contained a patient file. Even with the patient name redacted, she immediately knew that it was Jeff's patient file, dated a little over two months after his discharge from the Alliance.

As she read through it, her first thought hadn't been about the incongruity of the situation, but that Jeff obviously hadn't been taking his medication.

She made a quick notation of his medication, close alternatives if not available, and a recommendation that he use his crutches until his condition had re-stabilized.

She returned the file to the sender, and set her terminal to download the original to her personal archive. Her terminal processed for a moment, and then responded almost apologetically with a file not found error.

Chakwas had been working with technology her entire life, and so she was fairly certain she hadn't made a mistake in something so rudimentary as archiving a file. She attempted to open the original message, and found that it was gone as well. She checked the logs to find that there was no record of the message and associated file ever having been delivered to her terminal. There was no record of her notation, and her return message was also nowhere to be found.

She hadn't liked where her mind had gone.

David had been no help. There were few things considered non-classified that the Councilor wouldn't discuss with her. They had too much history, had been friends for too long. Jeff, however, was still on that list. Now that the man was willing to open up about Sarah again, Jeff may very well have been the entire list.

Through Kahlee, she knew that David still hadn't forgiven the pilot. That he had no idea why Liara had intervened on his behalf in the manner she had. Insubordination while on duty? His CO killed performing a rescue? Chakwas herself had no idea what Liara had said for Hackett to let him go. She'd expected Jeff would be dismissed from the Alliance, to be sure. She hoped that due to his condition, he would be able to avoid incarceration.

Instead, the lieutenant's role in Shepard's death was never made public, and his discharge had been filed as medical. He was debriefed, and sent on his way.

Anderson still wanted him shot.

Karin understood. She knew how much Shepard had meant to him. How close they'd become since they both first encountered her on Arcturus. Jeff was an easy target for his anger.

But she cared about Jeff too. She knew how much he tortured himself about Shepard's death. Personally, she thought the Alliance should be spending more time chasing the vessel that had blown up her home, much of her crew, and taken one of her closest friends.

But the Alliance was nothing if not pragmatic. Shepard was a hero. A walking, talking recruitment poster. She was also outspoken about a topic that humanity and the Council would prefer be kept as quiet as possible. Constituents did not usually take it well when you told them that an enemy was coming. An enemy that their governments had no idea how to protect them against. Politicians preferred to relay news that kept them winning elections.

The loss of the Normandy was a tragedy, but the admiralty wasn't shedding any tears.

She was unable to turn to David or the Alliance. Until she found cause otherwise, she chose to deal with this herself.

The next time her terminal had a waiting message, she activated her omni-tool before acknowledging it. If Joker's new employer wanted to keep secrets, she could play that game.

Again, all she received was Jeff's medical records. She quickly noted that he'd been taking his medication. _'Good,'_ she'd thought. They probably showed him her note. It has not been kind. A few recommendations and she returned this one as quickly as the first.

As she expected, her terminal retained no record of the message or her response. The record on her omni-tool was equally valueless. No digital copy this, she'd attempted to simply record the data that appeared on the screen. Although there was a recording, it displayed nothing but static. Quickly reactivating the recording function, she scanned the room. She could take an image of everything around her, unless the terminal was in view. Then all she had was static. Turning off the terminal eliminated the interference.

So she smashed the terminal.

When the replacement terminal arrived, she confirmed that she was able to scan and record it. She confirmed that ability several times, each time successfully.

Until she received the next message, that is.

So she destroyed that unit as well. Years in the Alliance had taught her that replacement equipment came far faster than repair techs, and in any event, she didn't want the Alliance sniffing around this particular problem.

She used her rank and position to replace her terminal with the most hardened unit that the Alliance had to offer. She might not be able to overcome whatever technology Cerberus was using to prevent her recording their data, but she wasn't going to make it easy on them either.

And it had to be Cerberus.

It was barely half an hour since she'd left the hospital when she arrived at her apartment. It might not be a record, but it was damn close. She was ready for round three.

She locked the door behind her when she entered. First she went to the bedroom to hang up her labcoat, and then the kitchen to pour herself a brandy.

This probably wouldn't work. She knew that. The brandy would take the edge off her annoyance.

So fortified, she entered her office. It had been two months. Every other week there would be a message. Every other week she would find out how Jeff was doing, and every other week she would pretend she was still his doctor.

She needed more, and today might be her chance. Her opportunity to at least trace the files being sent to her. Perhaps even arrange to see him in person. His physical health might be in order, but she knew Jeff. He was torturing himself. He would need someone to talk to.

She sat at her desk, and took one more sip before activating the terminal.

Nothing. No messages.

"I thought I might come in person this time," said a voice from behind her. "It has to be less expensive than continuing to replace terminals."

Chakwas turned in her chair, her position placing her at a disadvantage but ready to jump at any opportunity she saw. "Who are you?" She asked with as much venom as she could muster.

"There is no reason to be concerned Doctor Chakwas." Replied the intruder from the doorway. "I mean you no harm. My name is Miranda Lawson, and we have a mutual acquaintance."

"Jeff," answered Karen. It all made sense.

"Commander Shepard."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

The first thing Karin noticed when she opened her eyes was that her jaw hurt.

The second, was that she was lying on her couch.

"I apologize, Doctor," began the familiar voice from earlier. "I wasn't expecting you to be quite so tenacious."

Karin slowly sat up, evaluating her condition. No dizziness, check. She put her hand to her jaw. It hurt and seemed to be swollen, but nothing seemed to be broken. She looked around, spotting her assailant sitting across the room in an armchair, sipping what looked to be a glass of her brandy.

"It seemed a shame to waste it," said Miranda as she acknowledged the glass. "I didn't have opportunity to taste what you threw at me." She took another sip. "It is quite excellent."

"No, please don't get up," she continued as Karin made motion to rise. She nodded at the table next to Karin. "I poured you a glass as well, to make up for the one you shattered."

Karin sat back, calm covering her anger. "Am I your prisoner?"

"Of course not. I simply wanted to have a civilized conversation. Given prior events, it seemed to me that such a conversation would be better served with the two of us sitting several feet from each other."

"What do you want?"

"Right to the point. Fine." Miranda set her glass aside. "In case you missed it earlier, my name is Miranda Lawson. We have a mutual…"

"Don't say her name," interrupted Chakwas.

"Interesting." Miranda cocked her head slightly. "Former Normandy crew do seem to tend to respond strongly to her. We do have another mutual acquaintance. Let's start with him."

"Jeff."

"Yes, Mister Moreau. Your assistance has been…"

"Why are you here?" Interrupted Chakwas a second time.

"Because you do not appear to be inordinately loyal to the Alliance," answered Miranda impassively.

"I'm an officer in the Alliance!"

"Yes, of course," agreed Miranda. "Direct commission, I note. You were a doctor first."

"I was," she confirmed.

"As such, I suspect that your primary loyalty is to your patients, and less to any particular chain of command." She raised her hand when Chakwas attempted to interrupt again. "Please, let me continue. I also note that you provided consultation on Mister Moreau's care without question, nor did you inform the Alliance, or even your commanding officer about the manner that said request for consultation was received."

"Technically, my commanding officer is on Earth."

"And you demonstrate a remarkable penchant for rationalization." She nodded absently. "Yes, I believe you'll do nicely."

"I'll never work for Cerberus," replied Chakwas harshly.

"Well done." Miranda's coat covered the Cerberus logo on her outfit. "However, I am not asking you to."

"Even if I believed you, why all this trouble?" Asked Karin

"First, because we required your expertise as a physician." Chakwas snorted. "No, seriously," argued Miranda

"Osteogenesis imperfecta is hardly so rare that any number of physicians wouldn't be able to treat it," Chakwas pointed out. "Jeff was diagnosed as a child. His treatment regimen hasn't changed in years."

"A treatment regimen is only as useful as a patient's willingness to follow it, Doctor. Mister Moreau seems to be somewhat more inclined to listen to you than to our resident physician."

"He's afraid I'll yell at him, you mean," corrected Chakwas.

"Your opinion is important to him," countered Miranda.

"I got him to take his medicine. You're welcome." Karin reached for her own brandy, losing patience with both her guest, and the conversation.

"Again let me point out that you did not disclose our communication, you simply assisted."

"I'm a doctor that provided care for my patient. Fine. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Caring for the crew of the Normandy was important to you."

"Yes, it _is_ ," Chakwas corrected.

"And if another member of the crew were to require your care, could you be counted on to be equally discreet?"

"Is someone in trouble?" Chakwas' argumentative tone evaporated. "Liara?"

Miranda cocked her head again. "The asari. Interesting." She shook her head. "No, it is not the esteemed Doctor T'Soni of whom I speak. For now at least, I am talking in hypotheticals. Your response has provided me all the answer I require."

"You seem awfully sure of that considering that you just punched me in the face."

"I am an excellent judge of character, Doctor." Miranda's response was slightly annoyed.

"You seemed surprised when I threw my glass at you."

"Yet not so much that I failed to dodge it, nor to defend myself against your attack."

"Biotics do give someone an advantage like that."

Miranda sighed as she again held up her hand. "Enough. I apologize for striking you. It was not my initial intent."

"You broke into my apartment."

"And I apologize for that as well." She took another sip of brandy. "Let me be clear, Doctor. This is a courtesy. I acknowledge that I prefer to work with you both for obvious reasons like Mister Moreau, and for other reasons that shall become clear in the future. If you choose not to work with me, all that will happen is that certain patient information will no longer be made available to you, and I will find another physician to meet our needs."

"No threats?"

"As I stated earlier, I mean you no harm."

"Jeff won't listen to another doctor. You've already admitted that."

"And that is likely something you should consider when you make your decision," conceded Miranda.

The women stared at each other for a time.

"That's all?" Asked Chakwas.

"Unless you have any additional questions. I will answer what I can, but I am a busy woman."

' _I just bet you are,'_ thought Chakwas. "How is he? Jeff, I mean."

Miranda activated her omni-tool and transferred a file. "Here's his most recent workup, the one I expected to deliver today. Yes, you can keep this one," she answered the unspoken question.

"No, I mean how is he doing? How is he feeling?"

Miranda stood, finishing her drink before placing the glass on the table. "I prefer not to engage in sentimentality, Doctor. That is a question best directed towards Mister Moreau himself."

"You'll let me contact him?"

Miranda shrugged. "He's not a prisoner. Until our scheduled departure, his time is his own. He mentioned a desire to 'try his luck' at Silver Coast Casino. I suggest you start there."

With that, she turned and left.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Shepard ressurection

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	13. Business

**Summary:**

Liara has settled into both a life on Illium, and the business of information brokering, while still maintaining her association with Hackett

 **Reference:**

Some fill-in-the-blank relating to LotSB commentary, as well as things we know from the drabbles

* * *

Blue fingers flew over holographic keys, changing, updating, deleting. She pursed her lips as she read a particularly imprecise translation before deciding to delete the paragraph entirely in favor of creating her own. Her interpretation of Prothean communication protocols poured onto the page in a flurry of keystrokes.

Hours passed, and dozens of pages fell before Liara's single minded pursuit of perfection. Faster. Faster. Adjusting, changing references, attributing actual sources to original work, not merely the first human to come have close to a specific conclusion. Eventually there just wasn't anything left to edit. She'd touched it all.

She sighed as she reached the final page. In her opinion, the report was still in need of heavy revision. At least there were no longer any outright falsehoods, but the entire document continued to reek of mediocrity. Even as a graduate student, Liara would have been ashamed to sign her name to such research, and would never think of submitting it for review.

At least that wasn't a problem here. The galaxy could ever know that an asari scientist was supervising the Alliance's work on Ilos. She knew that, and had accepted it.

For now she was grateful for the anonymity provided by Hackett's subterfuge. She was still a pariah among academic circles, her hypotheses barely starting to gain the smallest amount of acceptance. Even with debris from the destruction of Sovreign strewn across the Widow system, her research and theories were barely a footnote in the analysis. If _this_ work were ever attributed to her, her reputation, now somewhat diplomatically referred to as "fringe" would quickly revert to "laughingstock".

She sipped her tea as she scanned the report one final time.

There wasn't any more that could be done. She'd already sacrificed time she couldn't spare to this assault on the integrity of archaeology. If she hadn't promised... Nevermind. It was time to move on to important matters.

With a flick of her wrist, she filed the report with Arcturus.

And her terminal responded by signaling an incoming call not thirty seconds later.

Not surprising. That's why she hadn't bothered to get up even though she didn't consider herself to be at the Alliance's beck and call. She slowly finished the last of her tea, placing the cup out of view of the pickup before opening the connection.

"Admiral," she nodded. A curt opening for a subordinate, but despite their current reporting relationship, Liara considered the human more a peer than a superior. Besides, she had other priorities this morning than the pleasantries she was normally known for.

"Doctor." Hackett's response was equally brief, but Liara was slightly annoyed to detect the hint of a smile on the man's face. She was twice his age, and Head of a Thessian Great House. The thought that this human looked upon her with subtle amusement did nothing for her mood this morning.

Liara did _not_ like to be considered funny.

"I've reviewed the latest report from Ilos," she continued without preamble. "And again, there were artifacts that were incorrectly catalogued, writings mistranslated, miscategorized records..." She trailed off at the admiral's apparent lack or concern.

Hackett simply looked back at her through the terminal. "And you have corrected the errors?"

"Yes, but..."

"And communicated your dissatisfaction to the leaders in the field?"

"Of course Admiral," she waved one arm dismissively. "That was not the issue."

She sighed. The issue was that these "scientists" scarcely listened to her, and even when they did, they barely achieved the most minimal of her expectations. Humans could be prideful, she knew that. Goddess, she knew that. Her age, and her current lack of affiliation with a research university diminished her credibility with the field teams. She'd hoped that her social standing, and ability to provide both information and materiel unavailable to the Alliance would have nevertheless won them over, but instead they only seemed to cause the human scientists to align them more steadfastly against her.

She took a breath, settling herself to avoid saying something she'd regret. "These mistakes were rudimentary. They never should have been made in the first place, if I were on site..."

The admiral's attention returned to something off screen. "Then you would simply be one fewer step removed from the same set of errors," he finished distractedly.

"If I were at the excavation, I could critique their methods! I could introduce them to the current prevailing archaeological theories and techniques. Help them overcome their limitations..."

"Of being human?" Hackett cut her off yet again. "I wouldn't expect that to be a particularly helpful conversation."

"This isn't about being human. It's about being inexperienced. Of being unfamiliar with the intricacies of excavating a Prothean archaeological site."

"The entire planet's a Prothean archaeological site, Doctor, and many of the team have decades of experience from working on the excavation of the Mars Archives. Are you saying your people don't know what they're doing?"

' _They're not MY people,'_ she thought frustratedly.

She shook her head in denial of Hackett's question. "It's not that. The Sol 4 site is insignificant compared to Ilos. The Mars Archives are fully functional yes, but it's tiny. You're talking about the difference between a research compound, and a planet. Also, the researchers on Mars have the resources of an entire Council world to draw from, without even leaving the system. The Ilos expedition is barely two hundred strong, and more than half of those aren't scientists." The Alliance was spending more resources securing the planet than researching it. "As you say, the entire planet is an archaeological trove. Any data could be critical in any preparation for the Reapers. We cannot afford mistakes. Not now, and not to this degree."

"All of which is why I placed you in charge of the research initiative." She had his entire focus once more. "A responsibility, I might add, that you have elected to fulfill from the Terminus."

"By forbidding me to travel to Ilos, it made no difference where I performed my research. Data can be accessed from anywhere."

"It made no difference to _you_ Doctor, nevertheless it has made a difference."

"The quality of my work has not suffered," she pointed out indignantly.

It wasn't only humans who had pride.

"It has not," he conceded. "Although it made my job significantly more difficult. Placing an asari archeologist in charge of an Alliance project allowed quite a voices to be raised in objection, along with their own _human_ recommendations. Having to defend that department head's decision to leave when she couldn't find it within herself to use the staff and facilities that we provided on Arcturus... Let's just say costs me political capital I would prefer not to expend." His eyes bored into her. "I prefer not to have my decisions challenged by the admiralty, and I like it even less when someone who reports to me gives them cause to do so. You were well aware of the conditions of my offer, and accepted it anyway."

' _How dare he!'_ Liara was barely able to contain herself, lest wisps of her biotics belie her outrage. The man should be grateful for all she'd done, not complaining about where she'd chosen to do it!

When Liara remained silent, Hackett continued.

"Was there anything else, Doctor?"

And she'd thought Shepard could get under her skin. Annoying asari must be a human talent.

She took a deep breath. "No, nothing."

He nodded. "Lieutenant Tremblay has been practically gushing over the research you've been doing," he said, moving their conversation to a positive note. "He's also mentioned that the research team is remarkably well provisioned and informed for such a small expedition."

"I need them to be effective."

"And I need this to be a partnership, not an asari expedition in everything but name."

"That was not my intent."

"Nor is it mine to take advantage of someone I need at their best." He paused so she'd understand his meaning. "Particularly so soon after what happened."

"You need not concern yourself, Admiral. It has been over a year. I assure you that I am fine."

Again stared at each other. Liara's face a stone, revealing no emotion. Hackett's countenance a show of concern that one wouldn't expect from a man who had the potential extinction of his species on his mind.

But it was Hackett who blinked first. "Have you been to Thessia since the memorial, Doctor? Or the Citadel? Dr. Chakwas would probably appreciate an opportunity to catch up. I can arrange for her to take some leave if you wanted to see her."

' _The transparency of the man!'_ She kept her hands out of view of the pickup, her nails digging into her palms. She paused, choking back a caustic response to a comment that she knew simply came from concern for her wellbeing.

"No Admiral, but... thank you. There is simply too much to do..." She trailed off before revealing to him what some of those items were.

He nodded, resuming a businesslike tone. "All right then, but I meant what I said about taking advantage. I'm tasking Tremblay with making certain that House T'Soni is reimbursed for any expenses you're incurring on our behalf." He continued when Liara started to interrupt. "No buts. You're helping us, not the other way around."

"Shepard would not have minded," she answered in a small voice, surprising them both. _'Why did I say that?'_

She collected herself again. "Thank you, Admiral."

Hackett's look returned to one of concern. "Take care of yourself Doctor. Hackett out."

 **.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.**

Another morning on her way to her office, a simplistic suite that met her minimal needs. The location was deep in a maze of passageways that stopped just shy of seedy, tucked behind the administrative complex of the city's docks.

Nos Astra was beautiful, and cared a great deal about appearances. That was why she'd selected her apartment. Both the location and view were a reflection of the city she now called home. Ostentatious. Expensive. Luxurious. Her mother would have thought it worthy of Liara, even if she wouldn't have approved of the modern style and décor.

But then Benezia had always been a traditionalist.

In most areas, anyway.

Whereas her apartment catered to Liara's comfort and emerging sense of style, her office did neither. Illium's capital was all about style and presence, but just to a specific degree, and only to a deserving few. While image was important, it was reserved for those willing to pay for it. Those concerns evaporated once one entered the shadows, away from public view.

Liara's offices were cheap, ugly, and difficult to find.

Her lack of expression reflected back at her from the car's window while her fingers tapped a subtle cadence against her leg. Progress wasn't coming fast enough to satisfy her desire for action. She was eager for a confrontation with the Shadow Broker, and that confrontation was no closer than it had been months ago. The Alliance was a distraction. Hackett was a distraction. Aethyta was a distraction.

Carvkae had been a distraction.

She freely admitted that last to herself. Yet despite her impatience, Carvkae was the single distraction that she couldn't bring herself to regret.

The interaction with her former teammate still had her unsettled. Liara didn't like what it said about her, that Carvkae feared for her life, that her would-be assassin feared Liara more than she had feared the retribution of Eclipse.

At least Liara had been able to take care of the latter. Events had left her depending on the legacy of her both of parents more than she found comfortable.

Still, Carvkae wasn't simply nervous, the former athlete had feared her, had been _terrified_. As Liara had fed, clothed, and arranged for transportation for the maiden, she had repeatedly needed reassurance that she was safe, that Liara didn't mean her harm. Liara told herself that such fear was unreasonable. Their initial meeting at gunpoint likely what had left Carvkae so shaken.

She told herself that, and almost believed it.

Even though it didn't explain how Carvkae kept looking away even as she claimed Liara's friendship.

But then Carvkae did know the value of the price on Liara's head. She probably imagined all sorts of illicit activities that could have brought it about.

Carvkae would be on Thessia by now, safe at the estate. One good act in a series of questionable ones.

She'd given direction to Alaya that the maiden be provided for, and a role found for her in the House. Given the kind of work she'd been doing, Liara might have thought Eliata could use her as a commando, bring her in as an experienced member of the huntress corps. Carvkae's own disclosures dampened that line of thought. Her lack of success in those kinds of endeavors left Liara unwilling to recommend Carvkae take a role where she might put others of the House at risk.

That meant Alaya would have to spend time with Carvkae, assess her, and eventually give her useful work among the possibilities available. It was a task well below the matriarch's rank as _seneschal_ , but she knew better than to protest Liara's instruction. Carvkae was too charitable to be a commando, and too easily persuaded for work as one of Denai's agents, too unrefined to represent House T'Soni in any formal capacity.

Nevertheless, House T'Soni _would_ find a place for her. Liara owed her that much.

At least she felt she did. No matter how unreasonable, Liara felt guilt over Carvkae's path, how her goals and dreams remained unfulfilled despite such a promising start. For the first time, Liara experienced the remorse that came from failing someone completely.

For the first time, she understood how Sarah felt after Noveria. On the Citadel.

On Mindoir.

She put the thought aside. Carvkae deserved better than what she'd received, and Liara was determined to make it up to her. She needed a right among the series of wrongs that her life had become.

Besides, despite her conviction, there was no way that Liara could use Carvkae herself.

She'd only get the other maiden killed.

She set aside thoughts of her teammate as she prepared herself for the day. Tasale was a pink smear still below the horizon, a promise of the scorching day to come. There was beauty in it, but that beauty was lost on Liara. Her eyes ignored the vista around and below her as they flicked from one datapad to another. There were patterns in the data, patterns she was certain were there, if only she could find them.

She closed her eyes as she tried to focus while her taxi hummed along on autopilot, requiring nothing from her.

The lack of need was fortunate. Piloting her own vehicle would be a waste of her time, just another distraction, and she had too many of those. She needed focus, and struggled to curtail her list of distractions.

Distractions like compassion. It had been among the first she'd shed. Now she had Carvkae to thank for reawakening it in her, at least momentarily. Now she'd have to dispel it again.

Attachment was another. She'd learned to keep everyone in her life at arm's length. Too many of them would intervene if they were fully aware of her current endeavors.

To that end, Liara was careful to maintain as much separation between her roles as she could, guarding each from the other to the point where they might almost be considered to be separate personas.

Her capacity as Dr. T'Soni, chief of archaeological research on Arcturus Station had almost no overlap with her duties as Lady Liara, Head of House T'Soni, which had as little connection as possible to Liara T'Soni, information broker.

At least information brokers weren't expected to advertise. It was a shadow industry, the existence of which was known to many, but utilized by few. She kept her clandestine activities well removed from all but a few members of the House. Other than Denai, Alaya, and the members of her personal honor guard, there were few on Thessia who could attest to her surreptitious profession. Even the maidens that Denai used as agents were, for the most part, unaware that their efforts were to any other purpose than the advancement of House T'Soni objectives.

She liked to think that no single individual knew all of the roles that she played, each title she wore, but she knew that was a dangerous assumption. Even among allies there were those who had pierced her web of deception.

Denai for one. Liara was aware that loyal or not, the matron used the data she collected to her own ends as much as she did to assist the House.

Gorlan was another. He knew far too much about her for her comfort, despite the fact that he provided the occasional care package of resources or information, usually just when she needed it most. Despite having no proof, she believed Farmop was one of those. It was better than believing that the STG itself had her operation under surveillance.

Aethyta appeared uninformed as to the true nature of Liara's activities, but her contacts and history would allow her to know the areas of Liara's focus rather quickly, if her father ever chose to be anything more than a bystander to her daughter's actions. Sometimes Liara wished she would.

And those were her allies. As proud as she was of her own progress and abilities, she knew they paled in comparison to the abilities of those who might wish her harm. People like Aria, Jack Harper, or her avowed target, the Shadow Broker himself.

She felt the change in altitude as her taxi descended towards the landing area. She opened her eyes, tracking their approach to the landing pads designated for public transit.

She collected her pads, organizing them as she placed them in her bag. A bag she drew over one shoulder, securing it in place as the door began to open, one heeled foot touching the ground just as the taxi landed.

She stood, evaluating the empty plaza around her. It was early. Too early for the bustle of the docks or the activity that would come with the opening of the trading floor. There were some cars overhead, but no people in sight.

She cut a line across the transport area, striding resolutely towards the hallways that made up the route to her offices. Already she could feel the heat, creating no small desire not to linger. Her fashionable dress moved with her, communicating an elegance she was still unused to associating with herself.

The holster strapped to her thigh also delivered a message to any who might only see the youth, the beauty. The weapon was hidden, but those who knew the signs would know that this was no ordinary maiden. There was danger here as well.

And it was good to be perceived as dangerous, when a customer might see killing you as the least expensive way to conclude a transaction. Of all the appearances she might choose to draw from, "elegant and dangerous" had seemed to provide the most benefit in the information trade.

She'd also learned that blackmail was significantly more effective when your target saw you as more than another pretty face.

Liara T'Soni, Information Broker, continued deliberately down a series of unremarkable hallways to the offices she'd leased. She squared her shoulders before palming the lock to unseal the door.

It was a wealthy and powerful businesswoman who stood at the entrance.

And then an uncertain maiden who stepped inside.

She stopped, internally reprimanding herself as she lifted her head. If she wasn't careful, a lapse like that could get her killed.

Farmop was the reason, of course. If Hackett was able to make her feel young, Farmop made her feel like a child. Not that there was any specific cause for it. He didn't even look up from his console when Liara entered.

He was her assistant, and she mostly trusted him. He'd never given her reason not to, other than being frighteningly skilled at questionable acts like breaking into government data stores. As far as their relationship went, he'd never done anything other than take any direction she'd given.

He had, of course, never taken such direction in anything resembling a deferential matter. He challenged her constantly, goddess he challenged her. His demeanor towards Liara made Hackett's seem like that of a tea maiden.

The salarian filled a need she'd identified early on, but had originally been stymied as how to address. The unsavory nature of her work lent it to a certain kind of professional, one that was proficient in certain areas that did not include the development of a strong moral fibre.

Unfortunately, once Liara looked outside House T'Soni, she was faced with the reality of how few individuals she could trust.

Liara's normal methodical processes failed her. Having dismissed the idea of assigning someone from the family, she had been confronted with the dilemma of choosing between someone she couldn't trust, and someone who couldn't do the job.

Interviewing maidens had been a depressing endeavor. All enthusiasm, and no talent. Most would have done anything she asked, but none with the skill she required. She didn't see the irony in dismissing other maidens based on their age, or lack of experience, particularly in light of how much Denai had been able to accomplish with her army of dancers and mercenaries. Although nearly half of all asari didn't survive their maiden years, that didn't mean that Liara wanted to add to that number.

Professionals she found distasteful for other reasons. Some she couldn't trust, could never see herself turning her back on. Others were braggarts and liars, looking for easy credits from an unskilled youth. None had impressed her, and many didn't take her seriously in return. Many thought that she was just a representative, that there was another in command.

And one had believed that their role would include not just access to data and resources, but to Liara herself.

That interview had provided Liara with the opportunity to exercise her biotics, something she hadn't done since Omega. Shepard's death might have been the worst thing that had ever happened to her, but had left her biotics over powered, and it felt amazing to use them without restraint.

It didn't hurt her reputation when word got around that Illium's newest information broker was well able to defend herself. Sometimes that reputation was well deserved. Sometimes it wasn't.

But the body was never found.

 **.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.**

"For an entity that most people in the galaxy believe doesn't even exist, the Shadow Broker operates in a remarkably high profile." Liara closed one list totaling several hundred known associates before opening another as she broke her silence for the first time that morning. One benefit to the salarian was his complete disinterest in idle conversation. The two could work for hours without speaking.

"Entity, Doctor T'Soni? " Asked Farmop, without turning from his terminal. "Peculiar choice of designation."

"I refuse to refer to whatever calls itself 'the Shadow Broker' as a person," she replied with certainty, despite having changed opinion on this matter multiple times. "Common consensus is that the Shadow Broker is likely a consortium of criminals, how else could they be involved in so many illegal activities at once?"

"And it's a stupid name anyway," she murmured under her breath.

"Time, Doctor T'Soni." Farmop answered her rhetorical question, when he was sure she was finished. "Time, and resources."

"The Shadow Broker has been operating for less than a century, Farmop." Liara was firm in her belief. "That is not enough time for a single individual to become as entrenched in as much criminal activity as your research has discovered."

"Catalogued, Doctor T'Soni," corrected the salarian. "Did not discover, merely classified. Data already in House T'Soni records, as well as other databases. T'Soni record keeping formidable, even from period prior to decision to broker information."

"The activity you have been able to _catalogue_ then," agreed Liara impatiently, despite the fact that not long ago she would have similarly argued his point. "One being could not hope to infiltrate galactic society to the level that you seem to have found, not in a mere eighty six years."

"Incorrect assumption, Doctor T'Soni." Now Farmop did turn, facing the maiden with whom he typically sat back to back. Whereas Liara still felt some discomfort in directly correcting her assistant, the former intelligence agent displayed no such compunction in return. "Overt activity first documented eighty five point eight three years ago. Clandestine activity had been documented to one hundred twenty six point two years with over ninety percent probability of being Shadow Broker related. Longer period possible, albeit with declining probability."

"Fine." Liara found herself using the word more and more often since hiring the salarian. Denai had assured her that he was indeed the best to be had, and the quality of his work almost made up for his condescending nature. "But the longer timetable makes my point for me. Eighty years, or a century and a quarter, the Shadow Broker could not exert as much control as we've seen if they are a single individual."

"There has never been a confirmed sighting of the Shadow Broker, Doctor T'Soni."

Liara nodded. "A group could not maintain the fiction of being a single _person,"_ She stressed the word before Farmop could comment again. "Not if they allowed themselves to be publicly known. Not even if it were only to a small number of trusted lieutenants."

"Identity concealment benefits in either case, Doctor T'Soni. Difficult to target enemy you cannot identify. Also, consistent behavior leads to consistent false assumption. Shadow Broker one person, behaves as if concealing identity of many. Galaxy assumes Shadow Broker is multiple individuals." He cocked his head as If acknowledging a victory. "Classic misdirection."

"Or I could be correct."

"Unlikely, Doctor T'Soni." Farmop didn't acknowledge the possibility that Liara might possibly be right. "Review of data indicates flat organizational structure, not hierarchical. Command chain nonexistent." When Liara didn't comment, he continued. "No delay indicative of relayed orders. Instructions given are never later contradicted. Communication with agents always in real time." The salarian shook his head. "Conclusion obvious. Single individual controls operation. Shadow Broker is person, not collective."

Liara considered. "There are some who believe the Shadow Broker is merely a member of a long lived species. If you are correct..."

"Am correct."

Liara sighed. "If your theory,"

"Conclusion."

"Your conclusion," she continued, "bears this belief out. The Broker is likely either asari or krogan."

"Data supports no such assumption."

"You just said…"

"Doctor T'Soni. Shadow Broker is a single being. One individual controls the broker network. The data does not support conclusions as to the nature of that individual."

"So for all you know, we could be facing an AI?"

"That is a non-zero probability."

"I think I'll presume that we're facing an organic, if you don't mind."

"That is your prerogative, Doctor T'Soni."

Liara closed her eyes for a moment. She'd faced more flexible positions when arguing her thesis.

"Does any of this help us? We need to locate the Broker, not debate his nature."

"'Help' relative, Doctor T'Soni. All data modeling enhanced when using more facts, fewer assumptions. Given time, will be able to predict Shadow Broker response to events with a certain degree of accuracy."

"How accurately?"

"Would depend on the event. And the data."

"Does it help us find the Broker _now_?"

"Have identified seventeen locations with probability equal to seventy percent or better of being Shadow Broker strongholds. Four with greater than ninety percent probability."

"That's the same number you already told me."

"Several locations now considered increased probability. One declined slightly." He shrugged. "Help relative, Doctor T'Soni."

"Are any of them under surveillance by any governmental agencies? Of any species?"

"None, Doctor T'Soni." She wasn't sure she was pleased with how certainly he'd been able to answer _that_ question.

"We can't be the first to have followed this chain of," she stopped herself from saying assumptions. "Logic. There must be others with as much, if not more motive to be working against the Shadow Broker. Law enforcement. Private security. Planetary governments. Someone. It's almost impossible to imagine that the Broker has remained in power this long, especially if they're a single individual."

"Broker originally not seen as threat," explained Farmop. "Once Broker's reach known, likely too late."

"Too late to be apprehended? Too late to be eliminated by a rival?"

"Exactly, Doctor T'Soni. Shadow Broker now effectively untouchable by conventional means, hence willingness to operate openly. Broker has enough wealth to purchase loyalty of many, enough information to blackmail remainder."

"So no one in the galaxy is willing to put the greater good above themselves," she replied disgustedly.

"Have no direct experience with such behavior, Doctor T'Soni."

' _I do,'_ thought Liara.

"What's next?" She unknowing adopted Shepard's tactics. "The immediate goal is to locate Feron. Do you think he's in one of those seventeen locations?"

"Unknown, Doctor T'Soni."

"Guess then," she sighed. "What are the probabilities?"

"I do not guess, Doctor T'Soni."

"No, Farmop, really you don't." She looked at the list on the salarian's terminal, selecting the one that appeared to indicate the least Broker activity. "What if I break into that one. How does that help us?"

"Help relative," repeated the salarian for the third time. "However, Doctor T'Soni, one possible location for the drell's containment would be eliminated."

"But he might be there," she insisted. "Is it at least possible that I could find you enough information to narrow the search?"

"The data does not support, nor contradict that position."

"I can't wait any longer. I'm going to scout out that base and see what I can find."

The salarian remained impassive. "That is also your prerogative, Doctor T'Soni."

"You don't approve."

"My approval irrelevant to your actions, Doctor T'Soni."

"Please, Farmop, we've been working together for months now. You _can_ call me Liara."

"So you've mentioned, Doctor T'Soni."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Shepard ressurection

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	14. Absence

**Summary:**

Even as Liara takes her first steps into a new world, events and plans continue around her.

 **Reference:**

Callbacks to Redemption and Homeworlds

The Treaty of Farixen and dreadnought counts are from the codex.

* * *

Denai's half of the workspace was ruthlessly clean and organized.

The rest, well, the rest was as Sarah left it. The soldier who wore an immaculate uniform, maintained a small arsenal of pristine weapons, and kept herself in perfect shape, could be rabidly territorial in the way she filled a space.

An array of datapads were scattered across the table, each exactly where she'd put them last, the data on them unavailable now, her security codes long since expired. The glass tumbler, no longer with the slightest hint of the scotch it once contained, held court over a circle of coffee rings. There were even sheets of actual paper strewn here and there, habits formed in younger days during an earlier time.

Denai never intruded into the commander's area. Every motion, everything she placed on the shared workspace never crossed the invisible line separating "her" side from Sarah's.

It was a few hours past midnight, which meant Denai was close to the end of her workday.

She would be if she ever allowed her days to end. She shook her head. The days and weeks were doing an excellent job of running together. She hadn't allowed herself to become this exhausted since university.

Denai activated her omni-tool, having to blink twice to bring it into focus. She quickly tapped out the calculations required to convert Armali local to the current time in Nos Astra. The current time in Illium hours, that is. It was the time at Liara's location that she was concerned with. She entered the formula from memory instead of just having the 'tool do it for her. After all, why should this be easy? Nothing else was proving to be. Besides, she needed the mental exercise to help her focus.

The numbers hovered silently over her wrist, reminding her of both her exhaustion and her duty. It was early morning for Liara, the daily briefing only twenty-seven minutes away. Twenty-seven minutes on Thessia, at least. It didn't matter. Her daily report was ready, as insignificant as it was. She deactivated her 'tool with a shake of her arm.

Not for the first time she considered simply sealing all the windows, and just converting all of her systems to Illium time. Without the diurnal cycle of Thessia readily apparent, she should eventually be able to settle into a Nos Astra schedule. It would create inconvenience with the estate staff, but she didn't answer to them.

She answered to Shepard.

Well, not exactly. Shepard was "dead", after all.

Denai could almost hear the quotes in her mind.

In Shepard's absence, and without the human's direction, Denai was free to prioritize her own efforts, and her allegiance devolved back to House T'Soni, until and unless she chose to ask to be released from her oath. Technically her service had been to Shepard's position in the family, not Shepard herself.

Which meant she now answered to Liara, the Head of the House, as she'd owed her allegiance to Benezia before her.

Being so elevated in the hierarchy of a Great House would normally be considered a privilege, a crowning achievement of someone't professional life. She used to feel fortunate, proud even, of her role and the trust placed in her by such a powerful Matriarch.

The perception of being part of something larger than one's self was why she'd chosen to remain after Benezia's death. There had been a sense to loyalty to the House, to the memory of Benezia, and once she'd ascended, to Liara. The House had become her family, and after Benezia's death, she wanted to help it any way she could.

Then Sarah had come, and had been named _cari'ssi'mi_. In the space of hours, Denai had gone from simply feeling useful, to feeling needed. It was a sensation she'd enjoyed.

Sarah had been so different from Benezia. So young, so earnest. So passionate in her love of Liara, in her commitment to House T'Soni.

Denai would have followed her anywhere.

But now she just felt used, lonely and abandoned.

It made little sense how quickly she'd become attached to the young human. She'd felt Sarah had _cared_ about her. Honestly and fully, not out of a sense of obligation or expectation. It was something she couldn't remember feeling since she'd lost Araire.

Acting as Sarah's _princeps_ hadn't been particularly demanding. Managing Shepard's interactions with the Matriarchy wasn't difficult, but it had been entertaining. Keeping the human from charging headfirst into one societal norm or another had been challenging, and eventually she learned that the best way to get her point across was to let Sarah make some of her own mistakes. Usually she was able to restrict those occasions to times when the repercussion would be limited to wounding the human's pride.

Sarah's sheepish grin in such cases had been more heartwarming than any number of times saying "I told you so".

But Shepard had learned quickly. She began to engage her before making decisions, had shared her opinions, her hopes and trepidations. She'd even started coming to her for relationship advice.

That had been endearingly awkward. Denai never would have thought that she would meet someone less knowledgable of relationships than Liara. And if she did, she never would have believed that such a person would be a Council spectre. The human had an innocence to her that belied her experiences.

That innocence was probably what allowed the human to imagine a galaxy where the Reapers could be defeated, despite never having been before.

It was also likely part of what had gotten her killed, and left Liara to deal with the consequences of her death.

Liara, who was becoming more single minded in her pursuit of the Shadow Broker by the day. Her quest for the Broker consumed her. There was never enough information to satisfy her desires, and her ever increasing requests for more data were starting to border on the frantic.

This was despite the fact that what Denai thought of as "her" network of maidens was generating information in a volume that was becoming nearly impossible to manage. Most of it had no relevance to Liara's needs. Some was of a personal nature, some inconsequential, and some held monetary value while not providing any relevance in the search for the Shadow Broker. No matter the nature of the data, Liara demanded that all of it be kept and analyzed.

Denai suspected that even the Shadow Broker himself didn't have the sheer amount of data coming in that House T'Soni did. Once maidens learned that they might make a handful of credits by simply keeping track of who they danced for, Denai's team had found themselves inundated by minutia from across the galaxy.

It had become Denai's job to distill the overabundance of information down to what was meaningful, and forward it on to Liara for further review.

Liara demanded the raw data as well, causing Denai to suspect that hers was not the only team tasked with analysis, but to the best of Denai's knowledge Liara's support on Illium consisted of a salarian assistant and a handful of VI programs. From how Liara's appearance had degraded over the last several months, Denai suspected that Liara might even be attempting to review all of the data personally. She seemed convinced that the one piece of data she didn't personally review was the one that would lead her to the Shadow Broker.

It wasn't healthy, and Denai was beginning to suspect it was Liara's way of distracting herself.

But distracting herself from _what_. Denai didn't know.

Sarah's death was the obvious conclusion, but that was only a guess. It was certainly what Denai was trying to distract herself from. She was still unable to convince Liara to share the mysterious knowledge she held regarding Shepard, but whatever that secret might be, it brought the young information broker no peace.

It bothered Denai more than anything else that despite Liara's claim she knew where she was, she didn't appear to be concerned about bringing Shepard home.

It made no sense.

Denai had melded with Shepard on multiple occasions during the human's last stay on Thessia. Despite the fondness she had developed for the young human, she knew her affection towards Sarah didn't hold a candle to the intensity of the feelings that Sarah had for Liara.

The memories that Denai had seen in those melds, including treasured recollection Shepard had of melds previously shared with her bondmate, were all that Denai needed to know that Liara's love for Shepard was equally fierce.

And yet Liara expended no resources towards Shepard's recovery.

Shepard was alive. Denai knew it to be true. When confronted, Liara had admitted to knowing the human's location, if not her condition. But Liara wasn't _acting_ on this information.

Nothing about this seemed reasonable. Others, Alaya specifically, were more than happy to indulge what was seen as a temporary fixation on Liara's part. How quickly the maiden had abandoned her archaeological pursuits to join Shepard was seen as proof of this. Now Liara was pursuing the information trade as a profession? Odd. She had no need to, but then she hadn't needed to pursue a doctorate either.

As far as Alaya was concerned, Liara was simply acting like a maiden. Best to leave her be. At least she wasn't dancing on Omega. Denai, Jedis, Stallura, and others operating under direct instruction were continuing as they had been, but Alaya had gone back to letting the estate effectively run on autopilot.

So while still supporting Liara's search, Denai also mined all the data she could in an attempt to ascertain the maiden's secret. She thought that it might have something to do with the drell that Liara was also consumed with, but she had no actual proof that that was the case. It didn't matter. She looked across the dozens of data pads strewn across every surface in the room, before picking one up at random. The information she needed was in here somewhere. She had to believe that. Access to this much information was one of the few reasons she chose to remain with the House, despite her loss.

But not the only one.

Her mind was wandering, focus lost. She realized the didn't know how long she'd been staring at the datapads when Teseka's voice called her from the entryway.

"Tea?"

She answered with a small smile. If tea was the question, then yes was always the answer. Teseka knew that. That was probably why the commando was carrying two mugs.

Denai hated being predictable, but at the same time she appreciated the concern, and the company. She was afraid she looked just as haggard as Liara these days.

"Comm's in fifteen," commented Teseka. She slid into Shepard's chair, offering a challenging look to Denai, waiting for the matron to comment.

Instead, Denai took a deep drink of her tea.

"I know."

"How long is this going to go on?" With sweep of her arm, Teseka took in the room. The workspace evenly split between Denai's structure and Sarah's mess. "She wouldn't have wanted you to turn this into a shrine."

"As long as it has to."

"You can't do this forever. There are other priorities, other responsibilities."

"None are more important than our obligation to our House, or to Liara," came the weary response.

"And to Sarah?" Teseka shook her head at the deliberate omission, worry evident in her tone. "Would she want to see you like this? Bloodshot eyes, skin grey with exhaustion? What would she say?"

"It doesn't really matter what she would say, does it?"

"Of course it does, Denai. It's her expectation you're trying to live up to." She leaned over the desk, Denai's concern that Teseka might inadvertently touch something evident on her face. "She'd want you to take care of yourself. You aren't going to be of use to anyone if you let yourself fall apart."

"I know that, so don't you start. Alaya's already been in here, with her 'the House has been particularly accommodating in allowing you to continue this endeavor' that she hits me with at least once a day."

"Is that why you're pushing yourself so hard? You're afraid you'll be assigned to other duties?"

"Don't make me laugh. Alaya chose to support Liara over Aethyta, but that doesn't mean she believes in what Liara's doing." She indicated the mess in front of Teseka with a wave of her arm. "She'll never stand up to Liara, even if she thought there was no chance she was right. She wants me to stop this on my own. She hopes that if I stop supporting Liara's efforts that she'll lose interest and find another pursuit, hopefully one that is a little more respectable than information broker." She chuckled as she took another sip of tea. "I never thought I'd see Alaya wishing Liara would focus her energies on archaeology."

"So, you're not going to stop then?"

Denai tiredly met her gaze. "I can't. I'm sorry."

Teseka's demeanor became more businesslike. "I didn't think so." She shrugged. "Not that I won't keep trying, but that's not why I came to see you anyway."

"No?"

"There's been another Shepard sighting."

"Confirmed?" Denai knew it wouldn't be. She set her tea aside, barely interested in Teseka's response.

"No, but the vids seem to lend credibility to this one. I think you should flag it in today's report." She looked at Denai expectantly.

"And why would I do that?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Teseka's confusion was evident. "If it weren't obvious what you were looking for, don't you think _I_ would know?" When Denai didn't reply, she continued. "Liara's looking for the Shadow Broker, for some goddess cursed reason, but _you're_ looking for Shepard. Why won't you ever pursue one of these leads?"

"Because they aren't her," replied Denai. "If they were, Liara would already know."

"So you suspect."

"So I know, Teseka. If Liara didn't know where Shepard was, she'd be looking. She's not only not trying to bring her home, she's not even thinking about it. She admitted she knows where Sarah is, and I believe her. I have to. But no matter where Shepard is, why she can't be contacted, Liara accepts it."

"Fine. Liara accepts it. Does Sarah?"

"Of course…" Denai trailed off.

"You don't know, do you."

"Liara told me I had to trust her."

"So you do. As easily as that."

"She's the Head of House T'Soni."

"And so you obey her without question. Just like you never questioned Sarah."

"It isn't like that…" Denai answered slowly. "Liara _has_ been forthcoming when I've questioned her in the past."

"But not this time, not about Shepard." When Denai didn't respond, she continued. "She is our patron, but Liara owes you more than any other. Do not forget that when you push yourself this hard."

"She wouldn't behave this way if she didn't have reason," Denai came to Liara's defense even as she agreed with Teseka's point. "We just don't have all the information. She would never sacrifice Sarah. Nothing would cause her to cause her to give up on Shepard, not while there was any chance at all," she paused. "Nothing."

"Tell me again," Teseka waited until she was certain that she had Denai's complete attention. "Why you didn't follow Benezia when she went to Saren?"

"I…" Denai's hesitation was interrupted by a chime from her terminal.

"Comm's coming in," said Teseka unnecessarily. "Try to get some rest afterwards," she added as she turned to leave.

 **.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.**

"The resolution passes, with a vote of two to one, the turian councilor abstaining," Valern's tone was even more annoyed sounding than usual.

The salarian ambassador glanced up into the viewing area with thinly disguised distain. Reporters, ambassadors, and other onlookers waited for opportunity to speak.

"The Council will not be taking questions," Valern preempted any interaction with the audience. He glanced to the other councilors at his right. "This Council session is adjourned. We shall reconvene in three days, at the normal time."

He stepped from his podium without further comment, heading for the corridor that would take him to the salarian embassy. Sparatus followed close behind, the turian embassy in the same direction.

Tevos waited in silence until the pair were almost clear of the audience chamber before stepping from her own podium. Every motion a study of fluid grace as she started in the opposite direction towards her own embassy. She didn't hurry. She'd sensed Anderson's growing impatience over the last few sessions, and today might be the day he acted upon it.

Anderson barely waited until she had gone a few paces before falling into step beside her.

"Councilor Tevos, a moment please."

She managed to hide her smile. "Of course, David. How might I be of service?"

Anderson paused, uncomfortable as always with the familiarity assumed by Tevos since he assumed the role of humanity's councilor, and how he should reciprocate. He still didn't know if Tevos was the asari councilor's given name, familial name, or only name. Matriarchs seemed to go by their given name almost exclusively. Military ranks seem to be a mix, and councilor…

Well, he only knew one asari councilor, so he had nothing to go on.

If Shepard were still alive, he'd have asked her the councilor's given name by now. Hell, Shepard had spent so much time with the councilor on Thessia, that she'd probably have given her a nickname by now.

But Shepard wasn't alive. Even if she were, he'd want her focused on other things than instructing him in asari etiquette.

Lord he missed her.

Tevos was still looking at him, probably very much aware of how uncomfortable he was. Over a year of being her peer had not overcome habits formed from so many years of being subordinate to the Council. "David?" She prompted when he still hadn't said anything. She seemed to enjoy watching him struggle with this role he'd never wanted, never asked for.

"I apologize, Councilor," answered Anderson, putting his thoughts aside for now. "I was distracted for a moment."

"That's quite all right David," she replied as they entered the corridor leading to their respective embassies. "This is fortuitous, in any event. I'd hoped to have a moment to thank you for your vote on the fleet's funding resolution."

"I'd be an idiot not to. The Citadel Fleet needs as much reinforcement as we can afford."

"No small amount of the allocated funds shall go towards expanding the human fleet," noted Tevos.

"And the asari fleet as well, Councilor," countered Anderson. "Even though the turians will get as much as both of our governments' allocations combined." He shook his head. "I don't understand why Sparatus didn't vote for it."

"Because he did not have to. My vote was a foregone conclusion, as the sponsor of the resolution. Your position on matters of defense has been, shall we say, abundantly clear. Sparatus had no need to vote in favor, thereby drawing Valern's ire, on a resolution that would surely pass without him."

"He could have voted against. Even Valern has to see that."

"He wanted the resolution to pass as much as you do, David. This way allows Sparatus to continue to show support for Valern, but at no cost to himself. The turians get the funding they desire, while Sparatus continues to build political capital with the salarians." She nodded in approval. "An effective strategy."

"And all of it based on hypocrisy." Anderson followed Tevos into the asari embassy's reception area, holding his commentary as Tevos informed J'neri that they were not to be disturbed. They entered Tevos' office, and the councilor's assistant secured the door behind them.

"This is what I hate about being councilor," he began. "We need all the defense funding we can allocate with the Reapers coming, but instead we-"

"Would you like a drink, David?" Tevos interrupted as she stepped into an alcove across from her desk. She slid open a recessed door to reveal a row of bottles.

"It's early afternoon," protested Anderson.

"I am aware of the time David," replied Tevos as she poured herself a glass. "I have no more business planned for the day, and you give me the impression of a man with a great deal on his mind." She held up the bottle. " _Elasa_?"

"The green stuff's pretty sweet," countered the human.

"You prefer something non-asari? I believe I have salarian whisky as well as human scotch."

Scotch. Another reminder of Shepard. " _Elasa_ 's fine," he answered in defeat.

"Excellent." She poured another glass, pressing one into Anderson's hand on her way back to her desk. "Please. Sit." She motioned to the chairs across the desk from her.

Anderson selected the chair with a higher back, the one not designed for someone with a crest, and chuckled as he sat down. "I don't think I've ever taken a seat in your office before."

"This is your first visit since you became councilor, David." She smiled disarmingly. "You are always welcome here. We accomplished a great deal together, even before humanity rose to having a seat on the council."

Anderson ignored the flattery. "The embassy takes a lot of my time."

"And it should not. You're a councilor, not the ambassador." She indicated his drink. "Your sensibilities are still those of a career soldier, David. You're not a captain anymore. Politics follow a crooked path, and no one's timetable."

"I still answer to the Systems Alliance. I don't think they'd be very happy if I started taking afternoons off."

"As I answer to the Conclave. Despite that, the Chancellor, like your Prime Minster, is not here. The Alliance is focused on defending and governing its colonies, as it should be. Your focus is on maintaining the relationships humanity has with its neighbors." She nodded in recognition. "A role you have had exceptional success with so far."

"You wanted to discuss something?" She prompted when Anderson simply stated into his glass at her comment.

"Two things now, actually." He took a sip of his drink. "You mentioned the relationships humanity has with its neighbors. Specifically you mean with the asari." It wasn't a question.

Tevos smiled. "Humanity and the asari have had good relations almost from the beginning, have we not?"

Anderson grunted. "Sure, because it benefits the asari."

"David!" Tevos exclaimed in mock indignation. "Did we not intercede in your little skirmish with the turians? How did that benefit us?"

He shrugged. "It changed the balance of power. To your benefit. You saw a race that could stand up to the turians and thought it wouldn't be a bad idea if they owed you a favor."

"And now you're thinking like a politician," replied Tevos.

"I can't help but remember the last time a race pissed off both the turians and the salarians at the same time." He met her gaze. "It didn't work out too well for the krogan, did it? The asari didn't step in on their behalf."

"The krogan had seized asari colonies. Would you have expected us to quietly accept losing our territories?" She put her drink down. "You weren't there. Difficult decisions needed to be made."

"You're right, I wasn't. But sterilizing a race sets a dangerous precedent, don't you think?"

"A precedent that hasn't been duplicated in over a thousand years. I think I can say that the genophage achieved the results that everyone wanted, with as few repercussions as could be hoped for."

"I'd consider a pissed off krogan race to be one hell of a repercussion, but let's put that aside for now. It looks like you're setting humanity up to be the target the next time that the asari disagree with the salarians, and possibly the turians as well."

"We have been remarkably aligned in matters of policy, David. Is that your concern?"

"My concern is that Valern and Sparatus now face a combined human asari voting bloc when before they could pass any resolution they saw fit." He took another sip of his drink. "What happens when they tire of being unable to further their agenda? They won't take it out on the Republics. It's humanity that will suffer."

"What agenda are you referring to David, that humanity is such an obstruction to?"

He changed direction. "Why isn't the Council preparing for the Reaper invasion? You're not stupid, Tevos. You know that wasn't a geth dreadnaught that attacked the Citadel. Synthetics make difficult enemies on the field of battle, but Sovereign was an order of magnitude beyond anything we've seen from the geth."

Tevos stared across her desk for a few moments.

"The Council's official position-"

He cut her off, possibly for the first time. "Pretending they aren't coming isn't going to make them go away, you know." He met her glare. "I thought the asari took the long view? I didn't know that meant avoiding unpleasant realities and hoping they resolved themselves."

"I'm not deluding myself David," she replied calmly. "There is what we know, and there is our official position." She paused. "At times, they are not one and the same, as you well know. The official position of my government is that a geth dreadnaught attacked the Citadel." She lowered her eyes. "Any other speculation will simply serve to create unrest in the populace." She sipped her _elasa_ without looking at Anderson. "Panic serves no one."

"It isn't panic to prepare for a battle we know is coming, Tevos. Why aren't you letting your people prepare?"

"Why aren't you?"

"The Alliance is well aware that the endorsement of the asari, _your_ endorsement, is why humanity has a seat on the Council. They're afraid of doing anything to risk pissing you off."

"A needless worry, David. Humanity earned their Council seat. You are in no danger of losing it by having your own opinions and goals." She offered a small smile. "I will say that while it has been helpful to have your vote while in session, my _official_ position is that if humanity were to start preparing for galactic war on their own, they risk running afoul of the Treaty of Farixen."

"Like my vote today," he waited while she nodded confirmation. "It makes sense that you, Sparatus and I would be in favor of military funding. It was our ships we're still rebuilding. Our soldiers we're training. Our people who will be on the front line when the Reapers return. My vote let Sparatus get what he wanted while saving face with Valern, but why is Valern against building up our defenses?"

"Like the Conclave, and your own parliament, the Union seeks to prevent panic among the general populace."

"The fleets were decimated by Sovereign. We don't need to mention the Reapers. Just announce a military buildup under the guise of general preparedness."

"There is still the Treaty of Farixen, David. The turians have thirty-seven dreadnoughts. Under the conditions of the treaty, if humanity wanted fifty, then the turians would need to increase their fleet to eighty-three. Building that many capital ships would be a significant strain on their economy if they desired to do so, which I assure you, they do not."

"And what will you do with those ships David?" She continued when Anderson started to reply. "Will you come to Thessia's aid when the Reapers are at our door, or will you concentrate on defending Alliance space like the turians will no doubt defend Palaven?"

Anderson's eyes narrowed. "What are you not telling me?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You know the Reapers are coming. You don't even try to deny it, not to me at least. Yet you don't want more ships, even though you almost lost the Destiny Ascension to a single Reaper." He started talking faster now. "The same with the salarians. They don't want more ships either." He shook his head. "That makes even less sense. They only have sixteen dreadnoughts. They couldn't hope to hold the Pranas system, let alone all of salarian space." His eyes widened in realization. "You don't think you need ships."

He leapt to his feet, realization filling him with energy as he towered over the seated asari. "What am I missing? Why don't you need ships?" His voice thundered through the room.

"David," Tevos replied calmly. "Sit down."

He started pacing instead. "What is it? A weapon? A strategy? What's Valern planning? What are _you_ planning?" He spun, staring at Tevos again.

"I assure you, I have no idea how the salarians plan to address the Reaper issue."

"Well then, how do the asari plan to address the 'reaper issue,' as you so eloquently put it?"

"By not panicking."

"Fine. You're not going to tell me. I don't like it, but I understand it." He turned his eyes upward. "I hate this political shit," he muttered, far from the first time.

He turned back to her desk, hands on the surface, leaning over Tevos again. "But there's more, isn't there? This all ties together somehow. Your plan for the Reapers. Your interest in humanity." He cocked his head. "Even your interest in _Shepard_."

She just looked back at him placidly.

"Dammit Tevos, tell me what you need. Maybe I can help! What's happening here? What are we to you?"

Tevos activated her omni-tool. "J'neri, could you please see Councilor Anderson out?" She met the human's eyes. "And see to it that a bottle of my private stock of _elasa_ is delivered to the human embassy? It seems the councilor approves of it."

"At once, Councilor," come the reply even as the office door opened.

Anderson didn't say another word before stomping out of Tevos' office without saying goodbye. Never turning before the door closed behind him.

"You're my contingency plan," said Tevos to the closed door. "Goddess save us all if it comes to that."

 **.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.**

The Shadow Broker shuffled into his command center, drinking in the cold. A spinning drone, the Broker's constant companion, followed just behind.

The cold ignited his senses like it always did. It kept him sharp, even in his inner sanctum, this place without enemies, without risk. The swelter of Parnack was a memory lost across years, but the cold was his ally, his sparring partner. Every compartment but his sleeping chamber was kept at his preferred ten degrees.

He activated his consoles with a wave, waiting with barely contained impatience as connections were established with his agents across the galaxy.

Once all indicators had turned a reassuring orange, he proceeded to settle behind his desk.

"Go," he announced to no one.

"Liara T'Soni has returned to Nevos, Shadow Broker." The nondescript drone waited for a response in a reasonable imitation of humility.

"Continue," came the eventual reply.

"Agent Pausa has confirmed her identity. Doctor T'Soni has accepted the employment offer at Ratari Distributors, using the Jinli T'Vemi alias under which she applied."

The Broker snorted at that. _'Asari are such prideful creatures'_ he thought. _'Even T'Soni. A meaningless alias, and she still selects a family name with a noble prefix.'_

"Instructions, Shadow Broker?" Asked the drone almost hopefully. "Agent Pausa is standing by, and wetwork teams are available."

"I rescinded the bounty on the doctor for a reason," murmured the Broker, despite the fact that such commentary was meaningless to the VI. He raised his voice. "Her work may yet prove to have value, and so we shall allow her to continue it."

The asari's research had proven _interesting_. T'Soni's conclusions were low probability, but not so much so that they might not be of use if his relationship with the collectors became untenable. They _claimed_ that he would be passed by when the Reapers came, but as more information came to light, The Shadow Broker found himself no longer believing their calm assurances.

Now that he's seen T'Soni's data as well, the collectors appeared even less credible. He wondered how many Protheans had been promised similar exemption the last time the Reapers had invaded.

He made his decision.

"Inform Agent Pausa to proceed as planned. Doctor T'Soni is _not to be harmed_. Provide her with the necessary security level and instruction to access the information archive stored in the Ratari facility. If she has not accessed the datastore within the next five days, provide her with subtle assistance, but nothing that might rouse her suspicion." That should be enough. T'Soni was arrogant, but she wasn't stupid. She shouldn't need the help, but he preferred to account for all contingencies.

After a moment, the drone drifted away to execute the Broker's instructions, bobbing gently as it disappeared into a corridor.

There wasn't any rush. He only needed to keep her attention away from Illium for a few hours. It didn't make any sense for the asari to be allowed to continue her work if he wasn't going to benefit from it.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Shepard resurrection

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	15. Negotiation

**Summary:**

Liara returns to Noveria

 **Reference:**

Callbacks to Obligations (Obviously)

* * *

Noveria.

Cold, wind swept, bleak.

She hadn't wanted to come.

Noveria wasn't much of a garden world, even by the loose standards defined by the Council. There was more to life than potable water and a breathable atmosphere.

The planet somehow managed to look uninviting even from orbit. Frozen oceans, snow covered continents, and a narrow "habitable band" that was barely worth the name, hugged the equator. Those regions combined to create an ecosphere with the only benefit being that while people could settle there, no one wanted to.

Liara shivered. Not from any chill, her body's reaction to the contrary. Instead she internalized the biting cold of memories resurrected by the view.

She stood stoically before the viewport of her stateroom, looking down onto a world she'd only before seen from the surface. Her first visit to the planet had seen her taking refuge in her cabin, unable to face the coming confrontation. What memories she had of Noveria were almost as if they'd happened to some else. First she'd followed Shepard into the port, assisted as they'f fought their way to the Binary Helix labs isolated at Peak 15, and after a battle with both geth and Rachni, they'd encountered her mother. The subsequent showdown left her nearly unable to function. She'd been numb, all agency gone. She'd dazedly followed Shepard and Kaidan as they'd returned Benezia's remains to the mako. Not a word spoken, not a glance exchanged. She'd traveled like cargo, barely aware of her surroundings until they'd arrived on Thessia for Benezia's release.

She never should have disembarked at Port Hanshan. Never should have gone to Peak 15. Never should have fought her mother, never should have _spoken_ to her. Thank the Goddess she had. Thank the Goddess for Shepard. Her desire to not disappoint the commander had overcome her fear of seeing her mother again, of seeing her in the thrall of the indoctrination described by Shiala.

After her mother's death she'd clung to Shepard like her life depended on it. It was only later that she'd realized she'd never be able to let her go.

So she'd named her _cari'ssi'mi_ , a desperate act to keep them from ever being apart.

Now Shepard was gone. Her spirit, her strength… gone. Liara was adrift. She sometimes felt as if she no longer had any strength of her own.

' _Damn her,'_ she thought, as she cloaked herself in the fortitude that only anger could bring. Shepard should be here. Liara wanted Shepard here. Needed her. Needed to draw on the human's strength, her resolve, her love, as she prepared herself to face the demons of her past.

But Shepard had been a hero, and heros tended to come to a specific end. Despite what Liara yet allowed herself to hope, that end tended to be a permanent one.

She sighed. There was business to be done. She needed resources and information. In the face of the resistance she'd encountered, all she had to offer was credits and the threat of taking those credits away. Sometimes that was enough. Sometimes it took… more.

Liara had never bothered to develop the talents and abilities that Benezia had held in abundance. Benezia had had the ability to make others realize that they had no choice but to conform to her desires. She'd embodied the ability to persuade with finesse. They were talents she'd tried in earnest to pass on to a disinterested, and finally openly hostile, daughter.

Where Benezia had been a virtuoso, a true master of statecraft, Liara was a bludgeon. She preferred to work in solitude, leaving colloquy to those better suited to it than she. Liara _had_ the tools and the training.

But she also had her father's temper.

The Benezia of Liara's childhood had been a juggernaut when it came to imposing her will on others. Liara herself had been the matriarch's only failure in that regard.

Until Saren.

Liara's final memories of Benezia were of a woman fighting against the control of the reapers, a prisoner of her own mind, a victim of the worst kind of violation that could befall an asari. She'd been a woman who had lost her way, had lost herself. But she was also a matriarch who'd yet been strong enough to grasp her freedom for the time tit took to say her goodbyes to her daughter. Finally, she'd been someone who had feared the end as it came for her.

For now, at least, those were the memories Liara had when she thought of her mother.

She hadn't wanted to come.

But now that she'd been forced to, she was going to make someone regret that she had.

o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o

"The administrator will see you now," offered the receptionist. Liara hadn't bothered to learn the maiden's name. On one level she was embarrassed by the behavior, but it would have sent the wrong message. Liara was learning. The fastest way to decrease the perception of your status was to treat everyone as an equal. She doubted the matriarchs back on Thessia felt the same discomfiture as she as they dismissed the value of others.

Shepard managed to treat everyone she encountered as an equal, and had done so to remarkably little detriment. Liara envied the freedom she'd had to do so. Shepard had never needed to cultivate the respect of matriarchs. She never even tried. Matriarchs who were going to respect her, did so. That respect might be based on Shepard's rank, her status as a spectre, or for those who were aware of them, her actions on Elysium.

Sometimes it was simply the open honesty of the charismatic young commander that carried the day.

But not every matriarch was an ally. Those who elected to not respect her often couldn't be convinced otherwise. More than one came to regret that decision.

Shepard had never seemed to mind wither way.

Liara however, had to deal with being a maiden trying to lead a Great House in a republic controlled by matriarchs. Powerful beings who considered Liara nothing more than a nuisance and an upstart.

There had already been more than one attempt made to place the assets of House T'Soni in trust, to protect T'Soni wealth while allowing time for Liara to mature. Given that the fortunes of House T'Soni, guided by experts like Stallura and Nagalia, continued to flourish, the Conclave had been able to find little justification upon which to base such an action.

And now Liara had been forced to adopt the behavior of those matriarchs. She'd begun to treat those outside of her House and her alliances as inconsequential.

As could be expected, it was the matriarchs who took such treatment the most poorly.

Those were the only times she enjoyed it.

She strode resolutely past Administrator Calille, entering her office without exchanging greetings or acknowledgement. The administrator had likely expected _lidifemea_ at a minimum, which was of course out of the question. Calille was a matriarch, and a reasonably important one, given the significance of Binary Helix's facilities on Noveria. To be working this far from the "civilization" of asari space, she was practically a monarch unto herself, answerable only to the other members of the company's board.

And to the shareholders.

Liara settled into one of the administrator's chairs, leaning casually onto one armrest as she cooly met Calille's glare. She made sure her body language communicated that she was engaged, while still being relaxed enough that she didn't view the meeting as particularly important.

Her pose also left her pistol within easy reach, and her biotics were at the ready. Just because she hadn't worn armor for this first meeting didn't mean that she wasn't ready for combat. There was going to be combat, but her plan today revolved around other weapons.

"I'll have tea."

Calille paused before responding, a puzzled look on her face as if attempting to understand what she'd missed. She'd been so surprised by Liara's wordless entry that she hadn't yet started to move back to her desk.

"I don't have any," she finally answered.

"You kept me waiting for thirty-seven minutes, Administrator. Your hospitality leaves much to be desired. I have become thirsty."

"Maiden T'Soni…"

"Matriarch, you may address me as _Doctor_ or _Peeress_ ," interrupted Liara curtly. "And you may do so after I have had some tea."

Again, they locked eyes. Liara impassively, while she watched several emotions play across Calille's face. The simple fact that Liara could see them told her that she had already won. Now the question was how churlishly the matriarch would behave until giving Liara what she wanted.

Calille eventually sat down, and notified her receptionist of the need for tea. Liara shook her head when asked if she wanted anything else. The dance had begun. Calille knew that the lack of hospitality had been a mistake on her part. She'd started this encounter by trying to treat Liara like a maiden, and to exert dominance over her and their interaction.

That had been Calille's second mistake.

Liara sat in silence, deflecting all attempts that Calille made to engage her in conversation until the tea arrived. She accepted the cup graciously, thanking the receptionist who delivered it, and then proceeded to sip it while checking her messages.

Once she felt she'd made her point, she closed her omni-tool, and set aside her cup.

"Calille," no 'matriarch' now.

"T'Soni," came the annoyed response.

Liara raised one of her eyebrow markings questioningly as she sat in silence.

" _Doctor_ T'Soni," said Calille, obviously deciding that Liara was not worth the honorific "peeress".

Liara nodded in acknowledgment. This meeting was going to be somewhat unpleasant for the administrator, so she could afford her this presumption.

"Report."

Calille looked at her quizzically. "Report on what? To you? I don't even know why you're here, unless it's to pay reparations for the damage your mother did to one of our research facilities. This meeting is a courtesy, one you seem intent on abusing."

Again, Liara activated her omni-tool, this time placing an interference field over the office. She had no doubt there was any number of recording devices in the room, and Calille didn't appear to be adept enough to have done anything about them.

"Administrator, I am here in my official capacity as majority shareholder of Binary Helix, as well as secretary of the executive board. To begin, I require access to Saren's research and personal data. I will also be collecting Benezia's data, her belongings, and her ship. Additionally, I require any information in the possession of Binary Helix that relates to my mother's work on Peak 15." She pushed forward, deciding to reinforce her authority. "If you did not desire to have this meeting in person, then you should have responded to my inquiries."

Calille tensed for a moment, which Liara expected, but then visibly relaxed, which Liara had not. "Thank the Goddess. We've had so many investigations since the Peak 15 incident. We're lucky to have been able to keep our Noveria interests active at all. Fortunately, the issues with Anoleis have kept the NDC busy enough that there was surprisingly little focus specifically on us."

"So…" Liara paused at this revelation. She hadn't expected to be perceived as a potential savior. "The Noveria Development Corporation still intends to abide by the terms of Binary Helix' facilities lease?"

"Oh yes," gushed Calille. They're far too concerned about any loss of revenue to want to push another paying customer offworld. It wouldn't do much for their position with the other investors either."

"Research continues then?"

"Very much so. In fact, while the demise of Mr. Arterius was unfortunate, his influence on the organization made quite a few of the other investors uncomfortable. Our most recent shareholder meeting was far less contentious than had become the norm. If you had attended, it might have been even more orderly. The fact that the T'Soni position was an unknown was one of the few items that still caused consternation among the various stakeholders. With that resolved, I believe that Binary Helix will continue to increase our market share in the genetic engineering and biotech markets.

"Saren made the other investors uncomfortable?" Liara prompted, ignoring Calille's attempts to exaggerate T'Soni importance.

"Not Mr. Arterius himself," assured Calille. "I think it can be safely said that we all agree with his ideology. It was his methods that were somewhat extreme for the tastes of many." She smiled at Liara.

"To which ideologies are you referring?" Liara was certain she wasn't going to like where this conversation took her.

"The prevailing ones, of course. Nothing subversive. Simply the desire to leave the natural order alone."

"And this natural order?" Asked Liara.

"Of course you know. You're Benezia's daughter!"

"Please enlighten me, Matriarch." Liara managed to choke out the words.

"The Council races each have an arena in which they are obviously superior. The salarians are superb scientists, the turians excel in martial pursuits, and the asari strength is politics. So long as the Council races are allowed to manage the needs of the other species from a position of strength, everything runs smoothly, and everyone knows their place."

"Their place," reiterated Liara.

"Like the krogan! They tried to be more than they were, and look where it got them. If they had simply accepted salarian rule, the genophage wouldn't have been necessary, and the krogan would still be happy."

Liara closed her eyes as the struggle to not to reveal her feelings mounted. "And Saren was a problem how?"

"Well," Calille paused as if realizing that Liara might hold Saren in some esteem due to his relationship with her mother. "Saren was focused on direct engagement with the other races, in _forcing_ them to see that he was right."

"Like the humans?" There was ice in Liara's tone.

"Exactly! Saren had such an issue with humans. He felt that a war was the only way to put the humans in their place."

"And you don't agree."

"Of course not! Violence has a way of turning against you. There's no reason to go to war when when other options exist. Embargos, trade sanctions, and possibly selective use of genophage-like pathogens could keep the humans contained until they come to accept their place in the greater hierarchy."

"I am happy to hear that your position is so enlightened."

"Why wouldn't it be?" Calille replied in an affronted tone. "They're primitive, to be sure, but so much easier to control than krogan or vorcha! Look what they were able to do to the turians and their vaunted military superiority. If we had already made contact with the humans during the rachni wars, the salarians wouldn't have needed to arm the krogan."

"And then we would have faced a 'human rebellion'?."

Calille shrugged. "You can reason with a human. You can't reason with a krogan. Destroy a krogan colony, and they just fight harder. The humans would realize the futility of continuing to fight, and capitulate to our demands."

' _Spoken by someone who has obviously never been in an argument with a human,'_ thought Liara as she remembered trying to convince Sarah to perform such sensible actions as get enough rest or write her after action reports in a reasonable time.

"You yourself mentioned how humanity performed against the turians. What if they were to have proven more difficult to convince than you anticipate?"

Calille waved the question aside. "The turians weren't expecting such tenacity from a primitive race. They'll be ready next time. We all will. It won't be a problem even if it were to ever come to that," she finished.

Not commenting was as close as Liara could come to agreeing with the matriarch's assessment. She wouldn't be able to hold her tongue much longer.

"Do you have anything to report beyond your opinion on Saren's beliefs?" Liara let the sternness of her tone communicate that she had no interest in returning to the subject.

Calille paused, realizing she'd offended Liara in some way, but not sure how. "Repairs continue at the Peak 15 facility. The hot lab should be fully functional again by the end of the quarter."

"What was lost?" Liara kept her line of questioning focused.

"Personnell primarily, as well as the hot lab itself. The majority of the other damage was mostly cosmetic in nature, and easily repaired."

"You were able to salvage all of the data?"

"All data storage is redundant. We would have had to lose the planet for data loss or corruption to be a possibility." Calille sat straighter in her chair. "We're a research organization, Doctor. Data is our business. None of the information stored or created at the facility was ever in any danger."

Liara nodded. "Excellent. I'll need everything you have."

" _Doctor_ , House T'Soni's support is appreciated, but you can't just walk in here and ask for copies of Binary Helix intellectual property. I don't care who your mother was."

"It wasn't a request _Administrator_ , and I'll need the originals. I'll give you copies of anything I believe you will find relevant." Liara kept her tone polite, yet firm.

Calille chuckled. "I can see that you've already become accustomed to getting your way. Unfortunately, what might work at home isn't nearly as effective in the corporate world."

"As you wish." Liara stood. "I'll need access to my mother's ship. I believe it's berthed at the corporate dock, secured under a Binary Helix seal?"

Calille nodded. "At your mother's request. Access can be arranged."

"Excellent. Once I'm on board I'll make arrangements with Barrister Nagalia. House T'Soni will be liquidating our entire position in Binary Helix. That will include Benezia and Saren's personal holdings as well."

"You can't do that!"

"Of course I can, Administrator. Saren's interest in your organization was a personal one. Through him, my mother's was as well. I see no benefit for House T'Soni to maintain a business relationship with Binary Helix, therefore there is no reason for me not to divest our shares."

"But, that's over forty percent of our stock! If that many shares hit the market at once, our capitalization will drop through the floor." She leveled a finger at Liara. "You'll lose a fortune! You'll be giving those shares away."

Liara shrugged in response. "You're right of course, but I believe that its more appropriate this way. I am the largest shareholder, as well as the inheritor of Benezia's seat on the board, at least until the next election. For my input to be unwelcome allows for the perception of discord at the highest levels of the organization. It is unfortunate that we could not reach an agreement, but I do respect your position. It is best that we part ways, as opposed to creating conflict."

The administrator was desperate. "You can't need all of our data. What are you looking for? If you could give me something specific…" She trailed off.

Liara shook her head sadly. "Much of what I require would be private in nature, particularly what is contained in Saren's and Benezia's personal datastores. I would prefer not to have it reviewed before I could access it myself."

"But we _could_ grant you access to all of _their_ data! We don't have their encryption keys anyway-"

"Saren also used Binary Helix 'assets' to gain access to secure data on Eden Prime, among other human information troves. I would need those as well."

Now Calille hesitated. "I can't allow-"

"But Saren had access to those resources, yes?"

"He did, but-"

"And it caused no issue with you or your organization?"

"There were some early objections-"

"Which were resolved how?"

"Well, Mr. Arterius purchased the shares of the objecting investors."

"Meaning that those who would take issue with the dissemination of this information are no longer associated with the organization?"

"Not those members specifically, no."

"And where did Saren get the funds for his acquisitions?"

"My understanding is that they were provided to him by Lady Benezia."

"That was my understanding as well. So far you haven't provided me with any reason why you cannot provide me with what I've asked, other than your own objections. The assets I've requested have already been under the control of a member or debtor of House T'Soni. Providing them to me consolidates this access as opposed to disseminating it."

Liara could see the indecision on the matriarch's face. She was close, she just needed a little push.

"Binary Helix has a settlement they have yet to pay, do they not? To the krogan?"

"Yes," growled Calille, her attention back in the moment. "A group of krogan investors provided funding for Saren's genophage research."

Liara held back a smile. "Certainly they knew that research isn't guaranteed to have results."

"They did, and the contract was worded so that there were no guarantees. We were certain that the contract would hold up in court when the investors brought their suit."

"And yet?"

"There had been a series of potential positive results, which led to further investment by the krogan. It was a cycle that continued for some time, until they demanded a full accounting of all progress that had been made, including the current status of the research."

Given that the research Calille referred to was contained in a radioactive crater on Virmire, Liara has some idea how that interaction must have gone.

"I presume that you weren't able to produce the research the investors demanded?"

"No," responded Calille through clenched teeth. "Saren was already dead, his facility on Virmire destroyed." She looked at Liara as if hoping at least someone would believe her. "It wasn't fraud. Excellent progress had been made, it was just lost in the battles with the geth."

"But the court did not agree."

"No," Calille shook her head. "The krogan counsel argued that all of the results they'd seen were fakes, designed to incent additional investment. The court agreed. Management could see how badly it might go for the organization. We offered a settlement, and the krogan withdrew their suit."

"And this settlement is troublesome for the organization?" Goaded Liara.

"Of course it is! With our issues on Garvug and Europa, we'll have to heavily liquidate to be able to satisfy the terms of the settlement.

Finally.

"I believe I have a solution that will satisfy us both, Administrator." Liara sat back down while indicating that Calille should do the same.

Calille looked askance at the maiden, already knowing where this was likely to go.

"Continue."

"House T'Soni will cover the expense of the settlement with the krogan."

The administrator huffed. "And in return I grant you access to our data?"

"If that is your offer Administrator, I would not turn it down."

"I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be blackmailed by the daughter of a Great House."

"And you still have not, Administrator." Liara rose again. "I merely accepted the terms of the arrangement that you yourself offered." She activated her omni-tool to send an information packet to the administrator's terminal. "You can contact me once the arrangements have been made. I'll have Matriarch Nagalia see to the krogan issue, while I take care of my mother's ship."

She turned to leave, before stopping at the door. "I would prefer not to be on Noveria any longer than necessary."

"You'll have access to the data before the end of the week."

"Thank you, Matriarch. It has been a pleasure doing business with you."

She walked out the door.

o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o

Liara's heavy footfalls were muffled by the resilient flooring that was omnipresent in Binary Helix' administrative facility.

But not muffled enough for the staff who also traveled these corridors to not be keenly aware of her presence.

She found herself beginning to enjoy the reactions of those she passed. The other maidens were conspicuous in their envy. Matrons were judgmental, but maintained a certain distance, seeming to prefer not to interact with the new asari in their midst. Matriarchs were, well matriarchs. It almost reminded her of Thessia, where the matriarchs had had to preserve a certain civility to her, yet still managed to demonstrate their distain.

None of them had been pleased with the way that Calille deferred to Liara's every request. None were comfortable with the way that Liara's will seemed to bypass corporate protocols. Whatever Liara asked for, Liara received. Calille might visibly tense, but she declined none of Liara's requests.

Liara wondered if it had been like that for Benezia. Not that she had wielded such authority as a maiden, although like Liara, she had been raised in the power and wealth that was House T'Soni.

Had Benezia been aware of the effect she'd had on others? They way they sought her counsel? Tried to ingratiate themselves to her? The way they attempted to anticipate her requests?

Of course she had.

Benezia had a legion of followers, true. She was the apex of a massive organization that included politics, philosophy, and economics. Although some worked some distance from Benezia herself, employees of some indirect holding, or working on some far-off colony, those closest to her were tied by more than just compensation.

Benezia had been admired. She'd been revered.

She'd been loved.

And she'd loved them in return.

Not for the first time, Liara compared herself to her mother and found herself wanting.

She might have bought her way into power here. Might have threatened Calille until she'd given Liara her way. Calille was doing her job, but there was certainly no love there. Probably not even any respect. Calille likely thought Liara was an arrogant maiden, too wealthy for her own good, and too powerful for anyone to say no to and make it stick.

Calille was afraid of her. Just like the others.

None here tried to help her. None wanted to learn from her, or even share her company.

They feared her. Possibly hated her.

It didn't matter. She'd been loved. The memory of that love needed to be enough to sustain her. She wasn't seeking to replace it.

She'd settle for obedience. It wasn't like her intervention in the affairs of Binary Helix was going to turn out well for them anyway.

It was probably better that they hate her. That way what was coming wouldn't feel like betrayal.

Especially since she found herself looking forward to it.

She also wasn't an idiot. Which was why she'd been wearing her armor in the week since arriving on Noveria, instead of the traditional business attire she'd become accustomed to on Illium. Although her barriers would protect her from any weapon she was likely to encounter in a business office, it helped give the impression of someone not to be trifled with.

And she was not to be trifled with.

She put them out of her mind. Calille and the rest of her staff had served their purpose. Liara now had all of Saren's information. His interest in Binary Helix might have been focused on a cure for the genophage, but they also had the unsavory reputation of being unsurpassed in the realm of industrial espionage. As the majority shareholder of the company, he'd had access to everything, just like she did now. That explained the ease in which he'd turned the lab at Peak 15 to his purposes, even going do far as to place an assassin in Shepard's path in the form of Doctor Iallis.

She couldn't wait to see what Saren's archive contained.

It was encrypted of course, but she had faith in Farmop. Even if he'd used encryptions available to the turian military, she had no doubt that the STG had the ability to break it. She'd had no reason to trust Gorlan, but so far neither he nor Farmop had ever let her down. They were watching her anyway, so she didn't see any point in not availing herself of their services.

She looked up from her reverie as she rounded the corner.

From here, the windows no longer looked out over the ragged desolation of the Skadi Mountains, but the grubby expanse of the commercial docks.

The docks were immense, containing a haphazard mixture of ships small and large. Freighters loomed over courier vessels, which were nestled alongside exploration vessels, bristling with sensors. Some ships were open, with personnel passing freely through open hatches . Others had armed guards visible at the airlocks, which hinted at the existence of more lethal, but less obvious, security apparatus.

Her mother's ship was obvious among the hodgepodge of vessels. The _Megara_ appeared stately even here. Liara couldn't suppress the beginnings of a smile at the memories that the ship drew from her. So often, the memories of her childhood had been bracketed by travel aboard that ship.

As she drew closer, she could just make out the tiny House T'Soni seal over the main airlock. The teal stood out against the elegant ivory of the ship, but the diminutive size of the mark kept it from seeming gauche. Benezia was always understated in everything she did. She couldn't disguise the size of her ship, but she would never allow the T'Soni name to be associated with boorish behavior.

Liara reached the hatch closest to her destination, and activated it with a quick entry of her access code. The still air and clear skies belied the icy blast that hit her as the hatch slid open. After a moment's consideration, she slid her breather mask over her face. Just because the cold air wouldn't kill her didn't mean she had to endure it.

She took a few tentative steps out onto the exterior walkway, and selected the gangway that led to her mother's ship from the myriad available to her. The ship's orientation forced her to walk the length of the ship before coming to the airlock near the bow.

The Binary Helix security hologram over the airlock disappeared with a wave of her omni-tool. The hatch itself took longer. First, the ship's VI had to come out of hibernation mode. Once the VI had verified Liara's identity, it activated the ship's generators to provide power to the onboard systems. After a few moments, the outer hatch slid aside.

It was no warmer inside the airlock. Once the outer hatch slid shut, Liara hopped impatiently from foot to foot to stay warm in a manner she never would have if she has still ben in the view of others. Some long forgotten engineer had decided that it was a bad idea to open the airlock into a hostile environment in either direction. This meant that not only would Liara have to wait for the airlock to warm, the AI would hold her inside it until the interior of the ship reached a hospitable temperature.

Liara resolved to modify that protocol as soon as she was aboard.

She impatiently entered an override on the airlock controls. The inner hatch dutifully slid aside to allow the shivering asari into the darkened space.

The airlock opened onto a receiving area just aft of the ship's bridge. Liara surged forward, intent on reaching her mother's private offices amidships on the deck below.

So focused was she on her destination that she almost tripped before she'd taken three steps. She used her 'tool to light the space, and nearly screamed when her brain finally comprehended what her eyes were seeing.

Bodies. The compartment was full of bodies.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Shepard resurrection

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	16. Morality

**Summary:**

Liara deals with the ramifications of her discovery.

 **Reference:**

No specific callouts on this chapter.

* * *

"…come at once."

Denai was in motion before she'd fully processed the communication. She'd collected the others, requisitioned a skycar, and they were on their collective way to Armali in a matter of minutes. She hadn't even bothered to pack. No matter, she ensured Liara's ship was always supplied in case of such an eventuality.

She watched the Armali forest pass beneath her as she considered the message. It was the "at once" that had surprised her. She was atypically disturbed by the direction, even as it had galvanized her into action. Liara wasn't prone to false urgency. Although there had been times when Denai had questioned the maiden's judgement, those were in matters of her interests and sensibilities, never when important matters were concerned.

Like matters of the family.

Of course Denai's immediate assumption was that Liara was in trouble of some kind. Despite the typical maiden penchant of belief in her own infallibility, Liara would take time to fully understand a situation before communicating it.

And she almost never asked for help.

Because she did, and due to the unusual nature of the message itself, Denai would almost have suspected the message was forged. Fortunately Liara's encryption algorithms, like Benezia's, were effectively unbreakable.

" _Princeps_ ,"

The simple address had captured Denai's attention immediately. She couldn't remember the last time that Liara had addressed her only by her title, if in fact she ever had.

"Have secured Benezia's vessel."

This was not entirely a surprise, but still… odd. Denai was aware that Liara had traveled from Illium to Noveria, but she believed that the purpose of the trip had been solely to meet with Binary Helix executives. So why now? Liara had heretofore expressed no interest in her mother's belongings, or in her personal transport. Benezia's chambers at the estate remained untouched. Her choices in decor remained the House norm, and the majority of her standing directives remained in effect. House T'Soni continued to operate as if her matriarch had simply stepped away for a decade or two. Liara had yet to have more than the most negligible impact on the daily operation of estate affairs. If anything, Sarah had had more of an influence on the estate's day to day functions. She added structure more befitting a military officer than a politician. The commandos loved it.

"Require immediate disposition of the _Megara_."

Then the first communication of urgency. Why was there a need for "immediate disposition"? The ship had been on Noveria for nearly a year and a half. What could have changed that required such prompt action? Why was it being communicated through Liara instead of the postmaster? Port Hanshan would likely have been happy to berth the ship in perpetuity, the fees they were charging. Such a statement reeked of illicit activity.

Not that Benezia's life hadn't been full of secrets. Could Liara have discovered something? Something she needed to prevent others from finding?

"Bring my ship, her crew, and your team."

Finally, explicit direction. But it made no sense. Why take the _Petite'aile_ when Liara herself had traveled using commercial transport? If Liara were trying to maintain a low profile on her visit, she'd failed the moment she'd been born a T'Soni. She'd inherited Benezia's shares in Binary Helix, and the last time she'd been to Noveria had been in the company of a spectre who'd left behind no small body count. The window available for inconspicuousness was well past.

Perhaps the following, "her crew," was the true request. Still, it wasn't like Denai would leave the crew at home and fly the ship herself. She could of course, but she had no desire to remain on duty for the handful of days it took to reach Noveria. The _Petite'aile_ had the most rudimentary of VIs, and control of the ship lay primarily with the pilot.

Finally, "your team". Now, Denai knew exactly who Liara was referring to, but she would never have referred to them as "hers". The honor guard was Liara's first and foremost.

Despite the fact that as a unit they had coalesced around Sarah, who needed a protection detail the least of anyone.

But Liara couldn't exactly refer to them as "Shepard's team," could she? That would have been telling. Definitely more direct than Denai had grown accustomed to Liara being when it came to discussing her bondmate. As far as she knew, the maiden hadn't so much as hinted at Shepard's potential return to anyone else.

She'd closed with the directive to join her "at once", and then signed the message "Liara." No title, no official closing. The message had all the formality of an omni-text.

So now she was on Noveria. Another duty fallen upon her that she would never have chosen on her own. It made her uncomfortable just thinking about being on the world where Benezia had lost her life.

She couldn't imagine how Liara felt about being here, or about being here for as long as she had.

Denai was suddenly overcome with shame. Her loyalty to the House and to Liara was without peer, but she'd failed to anticipate the likelihood that Liara wasn't doing nearly as well as she appeared. She'd maintained firm control of the House, and seemed to be recovering from the loss of her mother, but 'seemed' was probably the correct word. She'd had Shepard by her side through Benezia's death, through her own ascension, and through the initial rounds of political skirmishing with matriarchs who would expand their power at the expense of House T'Soni.

But now Shepard was gone, whatever that meant. Despite that, Liara drove herself hard, drove Denai hard, drove the rest of House T'Soni hard. She'd come to maintain a Benezia-like awareness of what was happening at the estate, in Armali, with the various business dealings that House T'Soni had throughout the republics. Denai knew that some of her knowledge came from the solid counsel the maiden was receiving from Stallura. She also knew that some came came from Liara's own growth as an information trader, and some of that was from what appeared to be ever more unscrupulous sources.

Liara needed an advocate, not an adversary. Not that Denai hadn't taken Liara's direction, but she knew she could have been more supportive, less confrontational. They _both_ needed Shepard, but Liara didn't need to be constantly reminded of that. Liara needed Denai to be the matron here, someone to steer an inexperienced maiden through life's hardships. This was something that Liara had never had, but it was high time she did. Liara simply wasn't built to function in solitude. She's done so for so long that it wasn't obvious to most, but Denai could tell the toll it had taken on the maiden.

A toll that it was her responsibility to shield her from.

But all of that went out the airlock when Liara told her to send the _Megara_ into the system's primary.

o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o

 _Earlier…_

Liara staggered back into the airlock, hands over her mouth.

As soon as she cleared the hatchway, she slapped at the controls nearly in panic, not paying attention to the control surface, desperate to seal herself off from the horrors beyond.

The reluctant hatch finally closed, whether due to Liara's ineffective contacts, or simply the standard programming that an airlock hatch was not to remain standing open, Liara didn't know. Or care. Once the staring, judging, horrifying corpses were no longer in view, she fell to her knees. She no longer felt the insistent chill that permeated the lock as she tore her breathing mask from her face, the air feed not nearly enough to keep up with her heaving chest as she came close to hyperventilating. She fell to her side, curling into a ball.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Liara wasn't certain how much time had passed. Some time, assuredly. Time enough to blame to set in. Self-blame for the deaths of those she'd discovered. Time enough for her to move on to blaming Benezia, before going back to blaming herself once more. Time enough for her to start shivering again, as the needs of her body asserted themselves, demanding that she do something to warm herself.

A deep, shuddering breath was followed by another. Then a third. She sat up shakily, before rising to her feet. Her knees complained at the motion, and she leaned against the wall to keep from sinking back to the floor. Her exposed skin was like ice, but she felt nothing. Nothing but the numbness that came from the knowledge that she'd failed these people so completely.

She replaced her breathing mask as she took stock of the situation. She'd believed that she'd grown desensitized to pain, to death. She herself had killed hundreds while at Shepard's side. Reaper husks, geth, rachni, commandos, and mercenaries of every species had fallen to her biotics or her pistol. After the first few, she'd never spared any of them more than a moment's concern. She'd aligned herself with Shepard, after all. Shepard was good, so those who opposed her were obviously… not. As such they hadn't deserved her compassion.

But now she wasn't so sure. These weren't evildoers, adversaries to be disposed of as quickly as possible while on her way to more important objectives. They were people she'd known and loved. People she'd grown up with, people who were loyal members of her House. People who had protected her, and who had depended on her to protect them in return. They were _family_. She was reminded of one of her mother's adages, "We are all T'Soni." The House may have been hers, but she never elevated herself above any member of it. It was why she'd been so loved, so revered.

It was why this failure was so heartbreakingly thorough.

And there was no question that it was her failure, in at least equal measure with her mother. She'd been here, on Noveria when the bodies on the other side of airlock hatch had still been living people. Individuals sworn to her House, to her, and she'd done nothing for them. She hadn't so much as given a thought to check on their wellbeing before departing for Thessia.

No matter that she had been blind with grief, nor that they were no doubt as enslaved by indoctrination as Benezia herself had been. If Benezia could break the chains of Sovereign's control, no matter how briefly, then others might have been able to as well.

She'd never given them the chance to try. Who else hadn't she given a chance? Who else had died, dismissed because of the label "indoctrinated"?

What a self serving excuse.

She shuffled back to the interior hatch, reaching for the control panel with quivering fingers. She took special care to set the environmental controls to only warm the airlock itself. The shipboard environment reverted to power saving mode after her stumbling retreat, so she left it alone.

She pressed her forehead to the hatch while she waited. The warming air settled over her, a blanket easing her shivers as it did nothing to calm her racing mind.

It was obvious in hindsight that she would find the remains of her mother's staff aboard ship. She should have thought of it before. Only her single mindedness had allowed her to miss the clues until now. Shiala had made no mention of casualties incurred among her mother's ranks before the matron had been gifted to the Thorian. Despite that, there had been relatively few asari with her mother at Peak 15. Dr. Iallis had been a member of Binary Helix' staff. The commandos and been mercenaries instead of members of the House guard that Liara would have expected to be at her mother's side. In fact, of the asari Liara had encountered at the Peak 15 stronghold, only her mother had been known to her. It wasn't as if she weren't familiar with the entirety of her mother's personal staff. The faces of the dead had all been heartbreakingly familiar.

Kapheira had been the first that had snapped into focus, once her mind had been willing to process the horror in front of her. The matriarch's face had been impassive, her expression demonstrating nothing but apathy towards the death that had befallen her. It was a stark contrast from the acolyte Liara remembered. Hers had been a countenance quick to smile, her voice suited to soothe and accustomed to command. As one of her mother's senior advisors, she had the unenviable duty of keeping matriarchs at bay, as well as precocious young daughters who might attempt any manner of behaviors as she sought her mother's attention.

There had been several commandos immediately beyond. Thank the goddess that neither Isyrzea nor Eliata had been among them. Any loss was to be mourned, but both the current and previous captains of the House T'Soni guard would have been catastrophic additions to the loss of Benezia herself. Liara might as well imagine losing Alaya or Iryra.

And she couldn't imagine having lost them. She had been close to them all. _Was_ close to them all. They had taken the place of friends while she was growing up. The combination of her station and her unusual interests conspired to keep her isolated from others her age. That hadn't meant that she was alone.

Far from it.

Liara's days as a young maiden were structured in ways that few outside of a Great House could imagine. Rest, meals, education, and even play were managed to a rigid schedule. One day might find Liara standing behind her mother as she addressed various ministers in Armali. Kapheira would be there, ready to place a subtle hand on a young shoulder if she began to fidget, or otherwise let her boredom show. Another day might see her with Jedis, learning the financial intricacies of the House she would someday inherit. A third could see her with Alaya herself, the _seneschal_ instructing Liara in the finer points of etiquette expected of an heir to a Great House.

A young Liara had found none of those lessons particularly interesting. She begrudged the time spent away from her interest in the past, even as her pride would forbid her from demonstrating any less than her best.

It was the martial training that she enjoyed the least, even as she excelled at it.

She sighed at the unbidden memory.

Liara's biotics had manifested early, and powerfully. It was only to be expected for the daughter of a matriarch. As the daughter of two matriarchs, she now knew. The fact that her mother was Matriarch Benezia was enough to explain how early she'd had to learn to control them. Now that she knew the identity of her other parent, some of the implausible tales about her might explain how difficult it had been for her to learn that control.

 _She'd tried to clean it up, to hide the mess, disguise the damage. She'd leapt from her bed before the last of the furniture had impacted the floor. Fortunately the bed itself had been either too heavy, or too far from the center of the singularity to have been effected. She'd never be able to move it with only physical strength._

 _Pushing the wardrobe back into place had been easy, as its contents were strewn across the room. Once she's pushed it against the appropriate wall, she collected armfuls of her clothing, stuffing them inside. The staff would be horrified if they could see her cramming everything into place with no thought for damage or wrinkles, but her goal was to have any evidence hidden from view before her mother came to check on her._

 _And she knew her mother was coming. She always did._

 _Liara was on her knees, collecting shards of the glass blown from the frames throughout her room when Benezia stepped in, having followed her gentle tap on the door by the briefest of moments._

 _Liara looked up at her mother, silent as the matriarch's eyes quickly ran up and down her body, looking for injury. Finding none, her gaze moved beyond her daughter to take in the rest of the room. Liara turned to look behind her, seeing her bedroom through her mother's eyes. Her comforter was on the floor from where she'd thrown it aside after the crash awakened her. Her datapads, also on the floor, were on the opposite side of the room from their initial position of neat stacks on her desk. The desk itself had moved so it blocked the door to her closet, even if it was undamaged in any other way. Her wardrobe also appeared intact, save for the drawers and compartments, none of which were completely closed._

 _Then there was the damage. There were smashed trinkets, broken frames, a shattered vase. Benezia stepped carefully as she walked past her daughter, her destination the curtains across the room. She stopped from opening them to the pre-dawn gloom at the realization that one of the glass doors had shattered._

 _Benezia's had bowed her head briefly at the discovery, and Liara was certain that she'd heard her mother sigh. But when she turned to face her daughter, her expression was a pleasant one, and there was no anger in her voice._

" _Stand up Little Wing," she made a raising motion with her hand._

" _Mother, I…" Liara held her place._

 _Benezia walked over to her obviously nervous daughter, and picked her up. It was no easy task, but she refrained from using her biotics to assist. Liara was almost shoulder height to the matriarch. Where had the time gone? The decades were flying by._

 _She cradled her daughter's head as she walked her back to the bed, and placed her sitting upon it. "Wait here, Little One."_

 _So Liara waited. More than once she was tempted to again try to put her room in some semblance of order. However, her mother's instruction had been explicit. Liara wasn't yet twenty-five, but she knew better than to disobey a direct instruction from her mother. Benezia wasn't one to show anger, but the knowledge that her mother might be disappointed in her was enough to create an ache in Liara's chest._

 _She didn't have to wait for long. It took less time than Liara expected for her mother to return. Less time than if she had returned to her wing of the estate, and then come back. Perhaps she had gone to the quarters she'd kept nearby when Liara was younger, or maybe she'd even had one of her staff bring her what she'd needed. No matter which, Benezia was now dressed for the day, no longer in her sleepwear from earlier. She also carried clothing obviously intended for someone smaller than herself._

 _Someone just about Liara's size._

" _Stand up," she again directed Liara, indicating her daughter should stand on the bed as opposed to in front of it._

 _Liara hurried to comply, curious as to where this was going._

 _Benezia stepped close, quickly removing her daughter's sleepwear before assisting in dressing her in the form fitting outfit she'd brought. Liara tried to hide her embarrassment. Her mother hadn't helped her dress in as long as she could remember. The rare times that she required assistance were delegated to members of the House staff. To Liara's chagrin, she still had difficulty with all but the most rudimentary of the ceremonial knots._

 _So distracted was she that it was only once Benezia started fastening buckles that she realized that she'd been dressed in a set of commando leathers. Her breath quickened as she looked at her mother expectantly._

" _Yes Little Wing, it is as you suspect. Today you will begin huntress training."_

 _Liara waited in silence for her mother to continue, taking no chance that she might sway her mother from her apparent path._

 _Benezia nodded in approval before continuing. "Your composure serves you well, but it is not enough I fear, to tame the strength within you."_

" _Strength, mother?" Liara considered her lack of control to be a weakness, not a strength. Benezia had spent a significant amount of time with her, trying to teach her daughter to control the power within. With every errant blast, every time her mother pursed her lips in disapproval, Liara had considered herself more of a failure. It was not a feeling she was comfortable with._

" _Strength," Benezia confirmed. "Yours is an ability that needs to be channeled, not suppressed. Only once you access the full potential of your abilities, will you learn enough about them, and yourself, to be able to harness them effectively."_

 _She looked around at the wreckage of Liara's bedroom._

" _And it seems a more appropriate venue is in order. One with less… fragility."_

 _Once the final buckle was secured, and the leathers adjusted to the point where they fit as closely as her own skin, Benezia lifted her daughter and placed her on the floor._

" _Come with me, Little One."_

 _Liara followed closely, just a step behind her mother. Kapheira met them in the hallway, explaining how quickly Benezia had prepared for the day. She followed the matriarch as she led Liara through the estate. They traveled down to the lowest levels, and then through the passage that lead to the commando barracks._

 _The barracks weren't truly barracks, Liara knew. The House commandos had private quarters and as many luxuries available to them as any acolyte or agent. "Barracks" was simply the name for the building where the House Guard was quartered. Perhaps once they had been housed in a barracks, but now the word was more a nod to tradition than anything else._

 _They bypassed the personal quarters, and went directly to the administrative area. Isyrzea was already at her desk, despite the early hour, and stood when Benezia entered. She solemnly performed_ lidifemea _with a formality that was seldom seen inside the estate._

 _Liara was certain Isyrzea knew they'd been coming. She noticed Isyrzea's eyes on her even as the captain addressed her mother. "My Lady Benezia," Isyrzea offered, further stressing the formality of the moment._

" _Captain," replied Benezia, "I see you," she continued, providing Isyrzea with direction to speak freely._

" _The estate is secure, Peeress. How might I serve?"_

" _Your service honors us both, Captain. It is time to extend that service to my daughter, that she may carry your protection with her, wherever she might go."_

 _The matron nodded as her eyes remained on Liara. "She is ready?"_

" _More than ready, I suspect."_

 _Isyrzea's eyes turned to Benezia, still speaking as if Liara were not present. "There have been concerns with her biotics training?"_

 _Benezia shrugged, a gesture Liara seldom saw from her mother. "Falylia has been guiding her well. Liara's degree of control is more than acceptable for her age." The matriarch paused. "That control is less consistent when my daughter slumbers."_

 _Isyrzea smiled slightly, turning to talk at Liara even as she addressed Benezia. "Our young Peeress lifts as she sleeps?"_

 _Benezia was seldom one to encourage humor amongst her staff. "My daughter generates singularities as she sleeps. It is my preference that she not interrupt my meditation by decimating her suite."_

 _The matron's smile evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. "Of course, My Lady. We'll start her on the Path at once. I'll see to it personally."_

" _Little Wing," Benezia leaned down and embraced her daughter. "You are to stay with Isyrzea. She has much to teach you."_

" _For how long, Mother?" It wasn't quite a whine. "I have studi-"_

" _We both know that you are seasons ahead in your studies, Liara," Benezia allowed no debate. "And this is more important than your archaeology obsession."_

" _Yes, Mother." Liara's eyes dropped to the floor._

" _To answer your question, how long will up to Isyrzea." She dropped to one kneee to meet her daughter's eye. "And to you." She waited for Liara to nod her understanding. "This is no punishment, Little Wing, it is necessary. Your biotics are powerful. Too powerful for Falylia's meditations or Svartia's visualization exercises. Only a huntress has the discipline to master the power you have available to you." She looked for comprehension in Liara's eves before continuing. "I always intended that you study_ Deproelior _, as I did. You're simply starting at a younger age than I had anticipated. Understand?"_

" _Yes, Mother," Liara replied, not at all certain that she did._

 _Benezia stood up, turning to Isyrzea. "Captain, I leave my daughter in your care."_

" _My Lady," Isyrzea nodded._

" _She is not to be coddled, Captain. The House will be hers one day. She must never be betrayed by her own biotics."_

" _Yes, My Lady."_

" _I look forward to your first report on her progress." With that, Benezia turned and left the office, Kapheira again following silently behind._

 _Once their footsteps had receded in the distance, Isyrzea walked around her desk join Liara. Her charge looked up at her questioningly. "Come with me, Peeress. You'll be joining Etalis Squad on their morning run."_

" _How long will it take?"_

" _The squad usually runs until breakfast, Peeress."_

" _No, Captain. How long until I may return to my studies?"_

 _Isyrzea paused. "_ Deproelior _is a path, Peeress, not a destination. My hope would be that you would use it to challenge yourself for the rest of your life."_

 _Liara just gaped in return._

" _Perhaps once you're able to defeat your mother in ritual combat?"_

 _Now Liara looked ready to throw up._

" _By Lucien, Child. I'm teasing you. You're young, smart, reasonably fit, and if rumors are to be believed, have more than a small share of your mother's will. You should be able to achieve the third level before Janiris."_

" _Only the third, Captain?" Liara wanted to bring this exercise to a conclusion a quickly as possible._

" _Don't get ahead of yourself, Peeress. Third will be difficult enough. Once you understand the tenets, and make it part of your daily regimen, you should be able to achieve level six, or possibly even seven before you leave for university. Even your mother stopped advancing at level ten."_

 _Liara nodded, still unsettled by events._

 _When no more comments seemed forthcoming, Isyrzea prodded her. "Enough stalling, Peeress. I think I'll join you on that run. When you go to bed tonight you'll be far too tired to worry about generating a singularity." She clapped her on the shoulder. "Today we both learn what your limits are."_

 _They left the office together, turning in the opposite direction from Benezia, Even before they reached the practice fields, Isyrzea was commenting on ways to correct her form._

Liara snapped back to the present. She could always tell her mother's priority of the moment by who was closest in her orbit at a given time. Financial concerns saw her in discourse with Cylenia. Matters of security were attended to by Isyrzea, acting in either her capacity of Captain of the House Guard, or as the commander of Benezia's protection detail. Kapheira was Benezia's political advisor, and according to some, on more than one occasion acted as a spy on Benezia's behalf. Finally, Alaya managed the estate, and all of the House T'Soni environs. Until that day, Liara had been included among the 'assets' that Alaya was entrusted to manage.

Afterwards, although Liara was still unquestionably a child, the members of the house began to treat her as a person instead of just an extension of her mother.

She was embarrassed how she never considered that until now, and ashamed that she hadn't given more thought to the members of her House that had been lost during the engagements with Saren. Her grief began and ended with her mother. If she had been able to rationalize her mother's death to the point where she assigned the blame to Shepard, did that mean she herself was unaccountable for the deaths of her mother's entourage?

Of course not.

She walked among them now, numbness replacing grief. Kapheira behind her, seated in a pose of padmasana, her demeanor and dignity undiminished by death. Liara stepped carefully among her assistants, lead as always by Liorian, who could supply Kapheira with details faster than a datapad, usually before she was asked.

Benezia's protection detail lay beyond. She knew them all of course. Every one of them were members of Etalis Squad under Lieutenant Sairni. They were Isyrzea's best of the best. Eight huntresses in full commando dress, sitting in a star with their backs to each other, that no enemy could approach unchallenged.

No enemy but starvation.

The memories flowed again.

" _Pick up the pace, Peeress."_

 _Peeress was meant as an insult, she knew. There were no ranks in Etalis Squad. Simply huntresses that trusted each other, relied on each other, loved each other. She'd never been more proud than the first time she'd been simply "Liara" after a particularly demanding exercise session._

" _I'm going as fast as I can!" She objected._

 _Sairni was obviously unimpressed. "You should be able to lift a fifth lume before the first one falls." She made a disgusted noise. "You've barely making it to three."_

" _These are heavier than before. I need a cooldown before I can lift a fourth!"_

" _Would an opponent care about your convenience, Peeress? Or you're supposed limitations? Perhaps you can convince an assassin to limit themselves to attacks you can handle?" She adopted a thoughtful pose. "They would want to keep it fair, after all."_

" _I am not amused, Sairni," hissed Liara. She struggled to lift a fourth lume while the first started to settle to the mat._

" _And this is not for your amusement." Sairni casually fired a throw in Liara's direction, causing the youngster to dodge wildly, dropping all her lumes to the mat._

 _Liara looked up from where she'd fallen. "That wasn't fair!"_

" _How unfortunate." Sairni ignored the outburst as she walked around the mat, toeing the lumes back into position. "You lost your concentration." She shook her head. "Above all, a huntress requires focus. I would prefer that you not allow yourself to be such an easy target."_

" _I was focused until you attacked me."_

 _Sairni snorted. "That was no attack. Any barrier could have deflected that pitiful throw."_

" _You expect me to lift five lumes_ and _maintain a barrier?" Liara was incredulous._

" _No Peeress," Sairni corrected. "I expect you to lift eight, but I'll take what I can get."_

 _Sairni had pushed her harder than most, driving a young heir to the limits of her ability. Believing in her when she didn't believe in herself, when she believed herself a disappointment to her mother._

 _When Liara achieved the second level of Deproelior, she received messages from both her mother and Alaya, congratulating her on her accomplishment. She asked Isyrzea if she could tell Sairni herself, and received a shrug of permission._

 _Sairni had simply looked her up and down. "About time. Tomorrow we'll start with additional meditation. You're still too early distracted."_

Somehow it had meant more to her than any of the praise she'd received. Even now she projected criticism onto Sairni's form, the eyes in her emaciated face looking coolly at Liara.

" _You probably did your best."_

She looked away in shame.

Liara took a deep breath of the biting cold as she nodded absently. These weren't her family, just their bodies. They'd all been released back on Thessia, their lives celebrated by those who'd been closest to them. And now they performed one last duty, reminding Liara of her responsibilities. Never again would she allow others to be sacrificed to her ends. Her obligation was to her people, and she would protect them all.

She got to work.

o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o

"Peeress?" Denai was certain she'd misheard.

Liara leaned back from the desk in the exquisite office she'd been provided by Binary Helix. An office she'd already removed more than a dozen listening devices from.

"The _Megara_ must be destroyed. At once. Without bringing undue attention to yourself, or the ship."

"You mean after we've brought everyone home to Thessia."

Liara's eyes narrowed. "At once, Denai. Use any cover story you require; biological contamination, systems compromised by Saren, Reaper artifact aboard. I don't care. No one can ever know what happened here."

Denai's tone softened as she reached a hand across the desk. "Peeress, this isn't your fault-"

"This is not about me, _Princeps_." Liara snapped. "My mother's reputation was damaged enough with Saren, Feros, Binary Helix, even events here on Noveria. You saw the vids. My mother _ordered_ them to call no attention to themselves, and await her return. They starved to death when no one came for them. If House T'Soni is to maintain its prominence among the Great Houses, we must be above reproach. No more scandal. No great reveals. If I am to protect my House, then my influence must be undiminished!"

"And those who have given their lives for your House, Peeress? Do they not deserve your protection as well?"

"They are _dead_ , Denai. There is nothing I can do for them."

"You could honor their sacrifice."

"There have already been release ceremonies for those we've lost, Denai. Are you proposing that we have them again? Would those we lost somehow benefit from an additional observance?"

"Peeress," Denai was treading delicately. "The rituals are for those left behind, as you well know. They bring us closer as they allow us to grieve together. The family needs this. _You_ need this."

"I need for you to follow the instruction I've given you."

"Liara," Denai was pleading now. "You know this is wrong. You wouldn't be trying to hide it otherwise. You care for these people." She waved in the general direction of the ship. "There were forty of our sisters aboard! How long did it take you to place them in their cabins? In their beds? How long to dress them in release robes?" When Liara remained silent she continued. "Did you perform the obsequies? You must have. You've gone to too much effort to not."

"Denai, I have made my decision. Do not make me regret seeking your assistance in this."

Denai had one final argument, one last card to play.

"Your mother would never have defiled the memories of the fallen. Not like this." There, she'd said it. Athame damn the consequences.

Liara was calm, composed, her face without expression. But her eyes, her eyes were lifeless.

"Denai, I release you from your oath."

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Shepard resurrection

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	17. Motivations

**Summary:**

Miranda has more added to her plate.

 **Reference:**

No specific callouts on this chapter.

* * *

Miranda Lawson stepped into the docks of Minuteman Station, the smallest of smiles on her face. Perhaps not quite a smile, as it left her eyes untouched. Still, the faint curve to her lips was an indication of the pleasure she felt from the trail of administrative destruction she'd left in her wake.

Her first action had been to dismiss her former counterpart in the Prometheus Cell. She'd issued the directive the moment she'd set foot on the station. The shocked look of the woman was another satisfying memory. Ten minutes later she'd departed for Cronos, under orders to report to the Illusive Man himself. Such directives rarely ended well for field operatives, other than a select few. Miranda had no reason to believe Vogt should expect a positive reception on Cronos.

She also didn't care. Perhaps the Illusive Man could find use for the woman. Miranda thought it rather unlikely. It was more probable that she would be offered an opportunity to demonstrate her loyalty. Perhaps by participating in one of the many operations with a low survival probability. It would be her choice, of course. Cerberus always had need for expendable people. Her alternatives would be somewhat less exalted, but would end similarly. Progress demanded sacrifice. Humanity first, and all that.

Miranda's sacrifice would be the effort required to rectify her predecessor's many failures. The Illusive Man had ordered the transfer of the SR-2 into the Lazarus Cell. Her success so far had proven her undoing. Miranda's reward for achieving the impossible with Shepard was command of another failing enterprise. It would split her attention between the technical obstacles of Lazarus, and the managerial obstructions that plagued the SR-2.

Despite the issues that beleaguered the program, Miranda saw advantage in her new responsibilities. The SR-2 Project was a significant part of the far-reaching universe of Cerberus affairs, with an oversized percentage of the organization's budget. With Shepard's resurrection now almost assured, the two projects had seemed destined to become intertwined. Once the commander was restored, she'd need a ship. She'd need a ship worthy of the soldier she'd been. The SR-2, along with her recently defined mission to protect human colonization in the Terminus, would need a commanding officer worthy of both.

Vogt's failure as a manager had delayed the SR-2 by years. Exactly enough to make Shepard the obvious choice to command. It was almost like it'd been planned.

Then again, Miranda wouldn't have been surprised if Vogt's weaknesses hadn't been accounted for. It felt like something the Illusive Man would do, and he always planned ahead.

Intended or no, the SR-2 was well behind schedule, and it was up to Miranda to ensure the shipped launched according to the new timetable.

First things first, she'd swept the project leadership aside. Some were demoted, others reassigned. Those who couldn't be trusted with the knowledge they carried would meet unfortunate accidents, becoming nameless statistics in testament to the dangers of space. Her next objective was the engineering team. From what she'd learned so far, she might as well be dealing with children who saw the SR-2 as their own private playground.

As stewards of a project that had begun life as an endeavor in espionage, the staff of Minuteman Station placed shockingly little emphasis on adherence to security protocols. There were several possible reasons, none of which justified their behavior to Miranda.

Obviously, they felt safe here. Minuteman was all-human facility, protected by the might of Cerberus. The original SR-1 plans had been stolen from Arcturus where aliens were commonplace. The fact that they'd been stolen by humans didn't enter into the equation. The station personnel felt secure in the knowledge that there was no chance a turian or salarian agent could operate covertly among them.

That's of course if they thought about security at all. The Prometheus Cell was a collection of dreamers. There was a certain advantage to that. Cerberus had learned the benefit of having people who could focus on the impossible and make it real. With enough funding and the right leadership, guided creativity could produce amazing results. The breakdown came when those dreamers were allowed to operate without restriction. Prometheus Cell had forged a reputation for projects without survivors.

The most insidious flaw of the Cerberus worldview was that humans simply weren't superior in all things, despite their fanatical belief to the contrary. To Miranda, Cerberus meant humanity needed to be challenged, to be driven to achieve. To others it meant that the Citadel races should to be forced to acknowledge the excellence that was humanity.

Idiots.

There was no reason for Prometheus Cell to operate with such a sense of nonchalance. No one had been pushing the engineering team and they certainly hadn't been pushing themselves. They should have been well on their way to completing the SR-3 by this point, not continuing to revise the SR-2.

To make matters worse, The Illusive Man was certain there was a mole on the SR-2 team. After all, the project had been running for several years. Plenty of time for an adversary to inject an agent or subvert one or more of the engineers. No organization could ever be fully secure.

Even Lazarus itself had been breached, to devastating effect. Just a few months ago Brun had been killed, murdered in his sleep.

Assassinated by a human. A traitor to the cause.

Brun had been a significant loss. They'd kept it quiet, but admitting failure to the Illusive Man had been a bitter pill to swallow. He'd taken it without comment. Primarily due to the fact that once motivated, the doctor had been as brilliant as he was cantankerous. Shepard chances of recovery were excellent, and their dead spectre was well down that road before Cerberus had been stripped of Brun's expertise.

That left Wilson as Acting Chief Medical Officer. The man was a moron, but even he couldn't screw up the protocols that Brun had left behind. Brun had planned a twenty-seven to thirty month regimen, not including any necessary rehabilitation. If everything went according to plan, Shepard would again be the bane of the Reapers in less than a year. Miranda intended to ensure that everything continued according to that plan. She smiled tightly at the thought. The vids captured during the battle of the Citadel had been impressive. Miranda looked forward to having the talents of the legendary Commander Shepard at the disposal of Cerberus.

She pushed the thoughts of Lazarus out of her mind as she reached the observation platform. She stepped close to the armored glass, taking in her first view of the ship before entering the gangway to the airlock. Even with suited workers crawling over it, she could recognize the beauty in the sleek curve of the hull. That didn't mean she was moved by it. The SR-2 design team had strayed further from the original configuration than she ever would have permitted. It was a problem too far along to rectify, so she reminded herself that some of the changes had potential.

That potential that was less obvious once she was aboard. The smell of ozone and burned plastic were an assault from the moment she stepped out of the airlock. A glance to her left reveled a cockpit that was a mass of loose cables and flickering lights. The pilot's flight couch wasn't even installed. The ship looked less like she was prepared for battle than she'd already lost one.

Disgraceful. Worst case, the SR-2 should be well into her initial trials by now. Instead, this mess. She was twenty-seven months behind schedule, and nearly a billion credits over-budget.

The Illusive Man never gave her the easy assignments, no matter that she'd wanted this one.

The command deck was no better. Not a single station was functioning. The passage was lined with exposed wiring, disconnected control surfaces, missing viewscreens. The entire bridge gave the impression of a salvage yard.

The CIC was cleaner, but demonstrated even less evidence of progress. Fully half of the duty stations lining the outer bulkhead were complete, but otherwise the space was open and empty. Where was the inner ring of terminals? The ship's status hologram? The galaxy map? The command platform?

She activated the 'pad she'd been carrying since she arrived, comparing the updated schematics she'd received to the debacle around her.

Even now the turian design cues were obvious. A small price for the Alliance to pay to receive the benefit of centuries of starship building experience. To Cerberus, the turian elements of the ship were anathema to be expunged. Such was the justification given to redesign the ship practically from the keel up.

It was infuriating. The original SR had been a proven design. Conceived by experts and tested in battle, the SSV Normandy was the most advanced human ship ever launched. The Arcturus shipwrights had learned a great deal from their turian counterparts. Cerberus had started their own efforts a mere handful of months after the Alliance, yet the Normandy had been spaceworthy for nearly two years of systems integration testing before her initial flight trials. Without the bureaucracy of the Alliance and their need to keep the turians happy, the SR-2 should easily have launched first. She almost chuckled at the thought. What a coup that would have been.

Despite their failings, the engineers formerly attached to Prometheus had managed to take a good design and make some improvement to it. Improvement was good, but now they were chasing perfect. Miranda had neither the patience nor the funding to allow them to reach their lofty objective. Besides that, the SR-2 was _huge_. The increased displacement of the SR-2 might put her closer in class to a light cruiser than a frigate. Prometheus Cell had gone even further, and planned to arm her like a dreadnaught. Material costs alone meant that there may never be another ship like the SR-2.

Miranda stepped through the port hatch into the armory, inspecting it briefly. She continued on to comms room and technical lab, giving each the same treatment. Not bad, she decided. She'd familiarized herself with the Normandy's plans before her arrival. What she found was a bastardized version of the SR-2 that seemed to blend the updated schematics with fallbacks to the original plans and changes made by an engineer with too much money and not enough restraint. She'd come aboard to confront that very engineer.

An engineer who was nowhere in sight.

She frowned. There were dozens of skilled shipwrights aboard the station, along with hundreds of technicians. Where were they? Other than the workers on the hull, she'd seen no activity aboard. The interior of the ship was as quiet as a tomb.

Fine. She deactivated her 'pad with an angry stab of her thumb, and stepped into the lift. An impatient flick of her fingers selected deck four. The brief change of color was the only response. She tried again. The doors remained open, the lift still. She cursed as she stormed out, heading for the maintenance shaft she'd seen in the tech lab.

Kavanagh had a lot of explaining to do.

o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o

Project Engineer Kavanagh rotated the projection of the SR-2 until the stern was visible.

The engineers and techs gathered around him collectively sighed. Their shift was almost over, but Kavanagh had called another of what he called his "concept" meetings.

"The pressure ratio of the propelling nozzles still isn't high enough," Kavanagh began. They'll need a redesign to overcome the weight and cost penalties we've introduced with the larger mass effect core."

The engineers shifted around him. " _Another_ redesign?" One muttered.

"Yes," Kavanagh turned to face the engineering team, many of who were leaning tiredly against various surfaces in the cargo bay. " _Another_ redesign. I apologize if this project is turning out to be more work than you anticipated." His tone was anything but apologetic. "But this ship is destined for greatness. Greatness she'll only achieve with the proper attention to detail." His expression was that of a zealot.

"Propulsion's a core system," came a tired sounding objection. "A redesign now will invalidate all the integration testing so far. It could set the project back another year."

"Or two," Kavanagh shrugged. "It doesn't matter how long it takes."

"It damn well does matter how long it takes," came a new voice. Miranda crawled out of a maintenance duct looking significantly worse for wear. She straightened to an authoritative pose before starting towards Kavanagh's position in the center of the bay.

"Operative Lawson," greeted Kavanagh with a nod as she approached.

As per her reputation, Lawson forwent any pleasantries. She held her reply until she joined him in front of the hologram. "You knew I was coming."

"Sure. Vogt sent a memo to the department heads a few days ago." He wasn't nearly as concerned as his team, who had fallen silent the moment Kavanagh had spoken her name.

"Your cell leader announced an inspection and you didn't think it would be a good idea to clean up around here?"

"Look Honey, you may be the golden girl of Cerberus," gasps echoed through the bay. "Things are different out in the field than they are on Cronos. What we're doing is real work, not for show. It doesn't matter how the ship looks until she's done." He straightened slightly, emphasizing the nearly twenty centimeters of height difference between them. "We get our hands dirty around here. We're not ashamed of it, we're proud." He indicated Miranda's filthy uniform and disarrayed hair. "For someone so worried about appearances, you're kind of a mess yourself."

Lawson simply raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue.

"Our job here is to come up with the best possible version of the SR prototype'" he continued imperiously. "That's what we're doing. The SR-1 was like nothing humanity had ever built. Compared to the SR-2? She's a toy."

"As much as it means to me that you enjoy your work," she replied in measured tones, "your time and cost overruns have been more than excessive."

Kavanagh's face darkened. "What did you expect? The Normandy was a mishmash of alien technologies. A novelty to placate alien politicians. Now that we know what can be done, we do it right. We do it the human way."

"So the human way is late and over budget?" She taunted.

"You heard me. The SR-1 was a toy. Lost in her second battle." He waved an arm to encompass the bay and the ship beyond. "That would never have happened to a human ship. The SR-2 wouldn't have gone down without firing a shot."

"The SR program was a stealth design. The Normandy was never _supposed_ to fire a shot," She countered. "Get in, look around, get out. She was designed for exploration, espionage, small team deployments, not direct engagement."

"And look how that turned out." He shook his head. "You should be happy we're not carrying those alien flaws into the new design."

He waited for Lawson to compose another rebuttal. As he did so, he looked around at the fearful faces of his team, and worried for the first time if he might have overstepped. Vogt had been easy to intimidate, after all. He'd gotten used to getting his way.

That might not be true any longer. As he looked down on Miranda, he realized that she'd been waiting for him to come to that realization.

She must have seen something she liked, as she nodded before continuing. "Enough. The SR-2 isn't a vanity project, Kavanagh. Playtime's over. She deploys in nine months."

His eyes widened. "But that's…" he stuttered.

"Not open for debate," she finished.

"It isn't possible," he countered, shaking his head. "Even if we abandoned the remaining upgrades, we're at least eighteen months from flight trials."

"Upgrades?" She asked impatiently.

"Scanners, weapons, defense," he paused at the look of deepening anger on her face before charging ahead. "Even maintenance systems. The SR-1 was a prototype. We're not halfway through the remaining improvements that need to be made to the base design."

Miranda cocked her head at him, and Kavanagh suddenly felt as if he'd failed a test. "Just because a vessel doesn't have something, does not make it deficient. No ship is designed for every possible mission." She activated her omni-tool and began pointing out some of the systems remaining to be installed. "Silaris armor? Thanix cannons? You're building a _frigate_. Were you expecting to add a fighter wing as well? Perhaps a mass accelerator? You already have a drive core twice the size of the original specification."

He felt that he was on better footing now. "The ship simply doesn't work as a frigate. The Alliance lost the Normandy. Better shielding, better weapons, and she would still be flying."

"You don't know that."

"No, but the Tantalus drive core gives these ships power to spare. Why _not_ have multicore shielding?"

"Because the shields light up enemy sensors."

"So you don't use them when running silent."

Miranda closed her eyes for a moment before continuing in a new direction. "Are you happy with your place in Cerberus, Mister Kavanagh?"

"Of course. There's nowhere I'd rather be."

"Indeed. Well then, let me be clear. Cerberus has given you a single objective. That objective is to present a ship ready for deployment in two hundred and seventy days." She waited for a response before continuing. "Not ready for trial, ready for deployment. If the ship so much isn't fully fueled by then, you'll answer to the Illusive Man himself."

Some things just couldn't stand. The SR-2 was his domain, his project. "Now look here…"

Kavanagh felt himself overcome by a wave of nausea as Miranda stepped forward, reaching up and grasping him by the throat. The biotic field surrounding him allowing her to lift him easily by his neck, and carry him with swift steps to the energy field across the open cargo bay door.

"Allow me to correct your assumption that you have some agency here," she said in a monotone. "I see this as a distraction from my primary mission. I see you as a distraction." She loosened her grip slightly to allow him to take a breath, tightening again as she pushed him into the boundary of the field. It felt like being pressed into molasses.

"If you'd done your job, I wouldn't be here, Vogt would still command Prometheus Cell, and you wouldn't be about to find out what decompression feels like." She forced him a little further into the field, and beyond. "Cerberus needs this ship ready to fly. I don't care who presents her to me."

Kavanagh felt the icy coldness of space begin to seep into him, held back only by Lawson's biotics now.

"Would you like to be that person?" She asked with an uncharacteristic lilt in her voice.

He couldn't have nodded more vigorously.

She tightened her grip even further as she pulled him back into the ship, dropping him to the deck once he was fully inside. "I'll be back for your updated delivery schedule at the end of the day. I suggest that the lift be functional when I return. I would hate for there to be an unfortunate accident."

With that, she stepped through the field herself, wrapped in a biotic glow. She only paused for a moment before leaping gracefully for the closest airlock leading into the base.

Kavanagh looked at his team as he struggled to his feet.

"Change of plan."

o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o

It had only taken a week, and she hadn't had to kill anyone.

The engineers had been overjoyed. Given her reputation, they'd expected to have the entire project returned to original design specs.

Not that that was possible at this point. The hull changes alone invalidated most of the Normandy's interior plan. The only way to go back would be to start over entirely, so she was forced to work with what she had.

Not that she didn't approve of many of the changes. Given that Miranda expected to be serving on the SR-2 in the not too distant future, she had a vested interest in the ship's survivability. After all, the SR-1 _had_ been taken down without firing a shot. Kavanagh's upgrades were already accommodated for in the ship's design. All they had to do was install the systems.

The accelerated timetable was somewhat less popular. If Shepard might be ready and able as little as nine months, then the ship had to be complete in the same amount of time.

They told her it couldn't be done. She told them she didn't care.

And Kavanagh drove his team as if his life depended on it. Which, of course, it did.

She couldn't hold back a smile at the thought.

It was good he feared her. He needed to fear her. She didn't want to stay on Minuteman any longer than she had to. Lazarus needed her. She could delegate the construction of the SR-2, but not the intricacies of Lazarus. Her skills in both genetics and nanotechnology had been necessary to overcome several of the challenges in Shepard's resurrection. She missed working with Brun. The man had been a bastard, but he'd been a genius. Wilson lacked the creativity needed to bring a woman back from death. Fortunately, all he had to do now was keep her from returning to it while her damaged body was repaired.

But there was one more thing to address before returning to Lazarus.

While most of Kavanagh's revisions were too far along to change, there was one that Miranda had been shocked to discover, and too horrified to leave alone.

The SR-2 was designed for an AI.

It made sense, if you ignored the political ramifications. The SR-2 was larger than the original Normandy, but designed for fewer crew. Even though Cerberus recruited heavily among Alliance ranks, the majority of the crew would likely not be experienced spacers.

An AI could overcome those handicaps. If you didn't mind dying, of course.

It could also significantly impact the "gentlemen's agreement" that the Illusive Man had with many of the Alliance brass. The Admiralty was full of officers who had known him when he was an agent for the Alliance, when Cerberus was a black ops program. They freely shared intelligence, technology, resources, and sometimes even personnel.

But as severely as the Alliance policed itself when it came to AI, she couldn't imagine that they would support Cerberus in the use of artificial intelligence. They'd even discharged an N7 for AI research. Not an insignificant sacrifice.

She had to take it to the Illusive Man. Not because she couldn't make the decision, but because he might elect to eliminate the former Prometheus Cell entirely. This was a secret that _could not_ get out. The Council hated Cerberus already, but AI research could cost humanity their council seat, perhaps even their embassy.

So now she waited patiently for the Illusive Man to acknowledge her call.

Finally the transmission circle activated, and he appeared before her.

He crushed out one of his ever-present cigarettes.

"Miss Lawson."

' _Damn,'_ she thought _. 'Miss Lawson already. Either he knows why I contacted him, or he's upset for some other reason.'_ Neither option bode well for the information she was about to disclose.

"Illusive Man," she replied with a nod. "I have assumed control of the SR-2 project, as per your instruction."

"I've already met with Vogt." He looked down as he swirled his brandy. "She said your interaction was cordial," he added, giving nothing away.

"I'm pleased to hear it. Will she be returning?"

"Miss Vogt has elected to serve the organization in… other capacities."

' _So much for that then.'_ Vogt had been too weak to run a cell. Organized, but weak. Miranda briefly hoped that Vogt's new role wasn't as one of the genetic test subjects in Petrovsky's research lab. It was an end that few deserved.

"The SR-2 construction timetable has been accelerated."

"Hardly surprising, as that was my instruction." He raised his head in what appears to be mild interest. "Is Kavanagh still alive?"

"He is, sir. I permitted him to retain his position as Project Engineer." Bringing another engineer up to speed would have proven problematic in any case.

"Your restraint amazes me, Miranda. I imagine he protested the new timetable?"

"He did, but we were able to reach an understanding. I am confident that he'll be applying maximum effort to the project from here forward."

The Illusive Man chuckled. "I'm sure you were very persuasive. Will it be enough? Will the ship be ready in time?"

"If our estimates on Shepard's recovery are correct, then yes."

"Do you have reason to suspect that the timetable is incorrect?"

"Not specifically, no. Brun's estimation has proven quite accurate, but of course it is no longer being refined."

"Of course," he responded as he lit another cigarette. "Was there a reason you contacted me, Miss Lawson?"

' _Miss Lawson again,'_ she thought. Not surprising, given the mention of Brun. He had not been pleased at the loss. He'd also waited for some time before inquiring as to the purpose for the call. _'He knows,'_ she thought frustratedly. _'He approved the AI.'_ It was a surprising risk for him to take.

"I wished to discuss the modifications that have been made to the SR-2 design." There. Nondescript enough. He'd perceive no disapproval in her choice of words.

A long pull from his cigarette. "One in particular I presume?" He asked disinterestedly, as his attention moved away from Miranda to something outside her field of view.

She knew that position. She wondered who was with him.

She pressed on. "Sir, the SR-2 has been modified to accept-"

"An AI, yes I know. Was there anything else?" He reached for the disconnect.

"Yes." His hand hesitated briefly over the contact at her word. Her mind raced to fill the pause with something. Anything that could be used to influence him without seeming to question his judgment.

He smiled now, slowly, while seeming to sense her dilemma. She knew he would find a frustrated Miranda Lawson an opportunity not to be squandered.

"Yes, Miss Lawson?" He asked, his hand still hovering over the contact.

He loved to expound. She took a chance.

"Why an AI sir? You must know That the Council would never approve-" She paused as his eyes seemed to darken, and she knew she'd gone too far.

"I am not concerned with the opinion of the Citadel Council, Miss Lawson. You of all people should know that." He sat back in his chair, the hand he was going to use to terminate the connection now gripping one of the arms.

"The interdiction of research on artificial intelligence is the most pointless kind of restriction. We need every resource, every tool if we hope to fight the Reapers. No research should be off limits." He took a draw from his cigarette. "We need synthetic assets ourselves to defeat a synthetic enemy. Instead, the Council would have us fight with one hand tied behind our backs."

He looked away again, giving a nod before returning his attention to Miranda.

"That's what makes humanity better, Miranda. Where we excel. We're not afraid to face the hard truths. We're not afraid to make the difficult decisions. Did Oppenheimer hesitate to run the trinity test? Was Grissom reluctant when the opportunity to transit the Charon relay was presented to him? "He took a drink of his bourbon. "No, of course not. They were human. They were heroes. They did what needed to be done."

Miranda knew it was a bad idea, but she continued with the dogged determination of a person that did not want to serve on a vessel controlled by an AI.

"And if they sanction humanity like they did the quarians?"

Miranda waited for the outburst, but it was not forthcoming. He simply stared at her for a few moments, taking an uncharacteristically long time to respond. It was enough to make her think that she might have just volunteered to serve Cerberus in "another capacity".

"Miss Lawson," he began softly as she released an internal sigh of relief, "The quarians were foolish. They made a mistake and it cost them their planet." Another draw form his cigarette. "To put your mind at ease, the Council could never constrain us like they did the quarians. They had already been forced from their world. We still hold the Sol system. We've established more colonies than any species except the other members of the Council. The time when the Council would have been able to constrain humanity's growth is well past." He sat back, obviously pleased with himself, as well he might be, given that he had played no small part in humanity's progress."

Miranda decided it was time to cut her losses. The Illusive Man was obviously not to be swayed on this point.

"Thank you, Illusive Man," she nodded her head in acknowledgement of the time he'd allocated to her.

"Miss Lawson," he replied before cutting the circuit.

She spun on her heel and left the comm room. She kept her pace measured, her face emotionless. She had no choice but to accept his decision, but it was just as important that he not be given any indication that she doubted him.

For the first time in her life, she questioned the Illusive Man. This was a road many had gone down before. The quarians with the geth, the asari with Tallaris, even humanity with Eliza had experimented with AI before encountering costs that were just too high.

To take a vessel as powerful as the SR-2 and put it into the hands of an AI was a terrifying prospect. Kavanagh obviously had no qualms about it, but that was always the problem with engineers. They never considered the ramifications of their creations.

There was one thing for certain, if the SR-2 was going to be integrated with AI, Miranda intended to ensure that it was shackled to an inordinate degree.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Shepard resurrection

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	18. Acclimate

**Summary:**

Carvkae starts to settle in and find her way.

Others have to decide how to deal with that.

 **Reference:**

Another chapter without any specific callouts.

* * *

 _Earlier…_

Alaya was frustrated. It was not a sensation she enjoyed.

That was a problem, as she was often frustrated these days. She kept her emotions contained as she maintained a steady pace down the corridor. She'd been a mercenary. She'd faced enemy fire. In the course of her duties she'd faced both an angry Aethyta and an angry Benezia. Maintaining a neutral expression while heading to medical was nothing in comparison.

The estate was bustling with activity, as it almost always was these days. Her eyes flicked from face to face, a habit formed centuries ago allowing her to catalog and evaluate those she passed. She longed for the time when she could cross the grounds and recognize everyone she saw. She comforted herself with the occasional familiar face, those she knew, colleagues that nodded as they passed. Amusing was the occasional younger maiden, surprised to see the _seneschal_ outside of the administrative buildings. They would offer _lidifemea_ as they passed, providing no small comfort as well. Even now it amazed her to be surrounded by such formality. As a maiden, she'd never expected to live long enough to become a matriarch. If by some chance she did, she expected that it would have been in name only. "Matriarch" would be an acknowledgement of her life stage, never an acknowledgment of her intelligence, experience, or authority.

In other words, she'd expected to end up like Aethyta.

Yet here she was, steward of a Great House, some might say _the_ Great House, with all the power and responsibility that implied. In comparison, Aethyta, once a power in her own right, was an outcast. Her name was used as an expletive by some, usually when she had occasion to call in one of her many owed favors. Alaya was amazed how their positions had reversed, given where each had started. Despite it all, there were times she still envied Aethyta.

Times like now.

Decades. She'd had decades to fall into a routine. The House had long ago achieved a condition of relative stasis, and she along with it. She'd expected to live the rest of her days in comfortable monotony. Before Benezia's death, she couldn't remember the last time she'd been surprised by a change in the daily norm.

T'Soni was an open House, philosophically inclined, and accepting of others. Potential acolytes would appear at the gates, eager to learn Benezia's teachings from the matriarch herself. They would be welcomed and if they proved worthy, their intentions sincere, they would be allowed to join in studies. The House would provide for each while she learned, eventually to either depart or to themselves extend Benezia's philosophies.

But the House was not an abbey. It was a residence, sanctuary for those who were allegiant to Benezia, and for their loved ones. Bonds were formed. Children were born and would grow, ultimately becoming maidens. Ah, maidens. Whenever Alaya was faced with a nuisance, she would find a maiden behind it. There was little to be done, it was in their nature. No matter how stable, how grounded, sooner or later maidens grew restless. The House did all it could to channel those impulses away from causing harm. Some maidens would become huntresses, joining the House guard and allowing their mothers to breathe a sigh of relief. Others might leave for university, an endeavor that House T'Soni supported in all her daughters. Mothers could usually rest easy in this case as well. Although it meant leaving the House proper, daughters would still be provided for and innocuously monitored.

But there were maidens who found the call of the galaxy impossible to ignore. Such could not be dissuaded from seeking what the universe had to offer. A parent might wish her child would restrict herself to asari colonies, or perhaps Council worlds, locations of relative safety. Those parents' hopes would be dashed when a daughter would instead depart for the Terminus or answer the call of a life of piracy. In all cases, the daughters of House T'Soni would leave with a stake, a blessing, and the knowledge that they would always be welcome.

In a few cases, those daughters returned.

"We have been maidens all," was a common mantra. To her credit, Benezia had done all she could to mitigate the anguish her matrons went through when their daughters became maidens, even before becoming a parent herself. House T'Soni might only have been two individuals by blood, but the House itself was a living, breathing thing, reflecting the cycle of asari life itself. So stable was that cycle, that even Benezia's departure had done little to disrupt it.

Alaya's primary responsibility had been to ensure the continuation of that lack of disruption, and to gently shepherd House T'Soni's many members in the fulfillment of their duties. Once that task was so familiar as to be almost effortless. Now she felt buffeted by the winds of inevitability, of a gale approaching that no amount of preparation could be enough to endure.

As the storm grew closer, one still needed to attend to the mundane. And the bothersome. One of the few remaining joys her position brought was the ability to offload her irritants onto others. The thought brought a rare smile onto her face as she entered the clinic.

o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o

Iadri didn't turn as the door opened behind her.

"Ignoring a request isn't your usual style Alaya. You typically take no small pleasure in your denials."

The matriarch stepped far enough into the room to let the door slide closed behind her. "Untrue, not that you have had much to worry about on that front." The _seneschal_ paused. "You anticipated my arrival?"

Iadri turned from her work, her movements effortlessly regal in a manner that Alaya only matched with conscious intention. "The queen has come down from her mountain," she proclaimed. "The maidens chatter even this far from administration." She held up her omni-tool. "Eliata is offworld, as is Denai. Stallura remains in Armali, pouring funds into T'Soni coffers at a rate that defies belief. Nagalia could only hope for a visit from you, a distraction from the endless list of contracts requiring her review. Jedis might benefit from some of your attention as well, _Seneschal,_ but Stallura appears to enjoy mentoring her as well." She deactivated her 'tool. "If you decided to deign to walk among the vassals of the House, I appeared an obvious destination."

"Sarcasm suits you poorly, Iadri. This is not a side of you I expected to see."

"Nor do I expect to be ignored in my efforts to fulfill my duties."

"You have not been. My belief was simply that your requests were better discussed in person. Might I point out that I came to you, hardly a sign of disrespect."

"True," replied Iadri, slightly mollified. "Yet I fail to see what needs to be discussed. My requests were not outside the requirements of what is necessary to meet the House's needs."

"Iadri," the doctor waited as Alaya appeared to decide how to broach the subject. "You've asked to build a hospital. That is no small endeavor, and well beyond any medical need the estate has required before."

Iadri was on firm footing now. "Has it escaped your notice, _Seneschal_? The estate no longer simply serves as a home for those closest to Benezia, or her heir. Liara's direction has changed it, changed us. There were only three thousand people living at the estate when Liara came home."

"Three thousand, two hundred and six," Alaya automatically corrected with the attention to detail of one born to administrate.

"So you say," conceded Iadri. "A number that had been relatively steady for centuries." She waved her hand back the way Alaya had come. "Were you oblivious to your surroundings coming here? We must number five times that many now."

"I am very much aware of how the estate has grown, Iadri. How could I not? It's been my responsibility to ensure that these new arrivals are fed, clothed, housed. Many of them come with skills needed to execute Liara's plan." She shrugged. "But some are their partners and children. Others are here because they have a tie to Liara or Sarah. In any event, the population of the estate will continue to increase."

"And with them, the need for medical care. A clinic isn't enough. I need resources, staff."

"You'll have it. Within reason." Alaya gestured to the 'pad she carried. "But this? This is enough for a small municipality."

"Two, actually."

"What?" Alaya's expression belied her puzzlement.

"Two. We need two hospitals. One here, on the grounds proper. Close to where you've been constructing the additional housing."

"And the other? A spare, just in case?" Alaya asked in an exasperated tone.

"The other is for us, for later. I suggest the limestone caves to the North, where Eliata is stockpiling weapons, but I am willing to discuss other options."

"How did you-"

"I am not unobservant, Alaya. House T'Soni is on a war footing. You make no effort to hide it. The Conclave may not care. Why would they, except to try to find some way to profit from it? The surely consider it a fool's errand, a House reacting to the whims of maiden with authority beyond her experience." Her eyes bored deeply into Alaya. "But Stallura is no one's idiot, and I see that _her_ bondmate has joined us here. Eliata's call for huntresses extends beyond Armali. She isn't simply replacing the lost Etalis Squad, or seeing to the security of the growing estate. She's building a force. To defend against what is coming."

"You said the other is for us."

"I have called my daughter home. Whatever protection the House can provide, shall extend to her." She took a breath. "I have seen war, Alaya. I want her to have no part of one. I shall see her to safety, and after, I will defend the House and her daughters to the best of my ability." She cocked her head as she considered Alaya's words. "Will you not stay?"

"This is my home."

It was as much an answer as any.

"Mine as well." A pause. "Should we expect Aethyta to join us?"

"I expect she will fight."

"But not with us." Iadri surprised herself with the conviction in her words, conviction tinged with disappointment.

"She will fight for us." Alaya spoke with certainty. Iadri wasn't surprised. Aethyta did inspire loyalty in those who knew her. Iadri knew only some of the stories, but she knew only half were true, they would explain why so many matriarchs tolerated her even today. Most had a history with her, knew what she was capable of. She could be dangerous, when given reason. That was a mixture of business, and Aethyta's unique brand of honor. To any enemies of Benezia or her daughter, she would be deadly.

"She will fight for Liara." Fact.

Alaya shrugged, perhaps her most eloquent comment so far.

"We agree there will be fighting. Does that mean you approve my requests?"

"Such was my intent before you even made them. It was only a matter of timing."

"Then why are you here?"

"To make a request of you in turn."

Iadri was taken aback. "Of me? I am already committed to-"

"This should fit well with the needs you're already voiced, Iadri."

"Fine." Iadri had expected an argument. The fact that there hadn't been one would allow for some magnanimity on her part. "What can I do for you?"

"You've already mentioned that you need staff. There's someone that I'd like for you to take on as a medic."

Iadri's eyes narrowed. She hated the quid pro quo arrangements so common among matriarchs, despite being one herself. She was probably about to be forced to take on one of the thousand or so humans that now lived at the estate. By the time she could get her trained, a human might die of old age!

"Who?" She asked cautiously.

"A maiden, she's one of Liara's former companions from university. Liara sent her to us, and now she needs direction."

"Carvkae?" Iadri was very familiar with whom Alaya referred.

"You already know her. Excellent."

"Know her? She comes to the clinic nearly every day. We've doubled our medi-gel consumption because of her."

Alaya chuckled. "It can't be that bad. She's a maiden. She's enthusiastic."

"Perhaps you should avail yourself of her enthusiasm among your own teams," she replied acidly.

"You see her often already. Appropriate guidance could keep her out of trouble."

"No. The child has no relevant skills. She would be a distraction."

"Could your patients not occasionally benefit from distraction?"

"That's not what I-"

"The child has a great deal of empathy, Iadri."

"There is more to the art than empathy."

"We have the luxury of being selective today, practitioner. That may not always be so."

Iadri shivered at the thought. "I… will consider your request, but I offer no guarantees."

"That is all I can ask. Good day to you." Alaya performed _lidifemea_ , an unexpected courtesy, before turning to leave.

Iadri activated her omni-tool to contact requisitions. She had work to do.

o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o

Carvkae opened an eye, squinting into the brightness that washed over her.

"Sorry," came the whispered apology.

"It's all right," she replied as she swung her legs off the bed. Of course it was. That was why she slept with her door open. She craved connection. She wanted to be awake for the comings and goings of the others.

She reached for her pants, standing to slide them on, before sitting back down to do the same for her shoes. She closed her eyes as her feet were enveloped in soft support. The huntress style boots were possibly the most comfortable footwear she'd ever owned.

Almost everything she'd been given since arriving at the estate was superior to anything she'd known before.

She shuffled to her doorway, leaning against it to watch Cerani make tea. It only took a moment for the other maiden to look her way with a smile.

"You're up early."

Carvkae shrugged. "I'm always up early."

"Oh, I know." Cerani put two cups on the counter. " _Sabusan_ , to remind you of home."

"Illium wasn't really home," Carvkae protested as she joined her roommate in the kitchen. "But it's still good," she added with a grin.

"That seems to be the consensus around here." Cerani commented as she sipped her own. "What do you have today?"

Carvkae activated her 'tool with a flourish. "Morning tea?" She indicated her calendar, as empty as when she'd gone to sleep. "After that, nothing."

"Don't worry. There are so many people coming into the estate, they're arriving faster than duties can be assigned to those who want them. It doesn't mean anything."

"I'm not worried," she lied. She was terrified by the fact that she had no idea what Liara had said about her. "But you're right. I thought I was I was going to stand out when I got here, but this place is like Pineios Station. I knew House T'Soni was big, but it looks like Liara's building a city."

"It's been an unusual year and a half," admitted Cerani. "before Benezia left with Saren, the estate felt more like a monastery than the demesne of a Great House." She motioned with her tea to indicate their surroundings. "Now it feels like a colony. Everything changing. So much new building, so many new people. It's a big adjustment."

"Sorry," Carvkae murmured in reply.

"I didn't mean you!" Cerani put her hand on Carvkae's arm. "You're different."

"I sure am," muttered Carvkae.

"Stop that!" The comforting touch became a push. "You're family! You're the only person who Liara's brought to the estate herself, other than relatives of the Normandy crew!"

"Only because she felt sorry for me," she moped.

"I doubt that's the case," she smiled again. "You're sweet. Besides, she's known you for years. That's more than I can say. She was a child the last time I saw her. If not for pics, I wouldn't even recognize her. I know she wouldn't recognize me."

"It had been a while for us too, and I'm not exactly proud of how we got back together."

"You worry too much. She invited you to her _home_ , Carvkae." She waited a moment. "And don't you apologize!"

"Sorry," died on her tongue.

Cerani burst into laughter. "You were going to, weren't you?"

"Maybe," she replied guiltily.

"Well don't."

Carvkae gave her the shy smile that seemed to have become her default expression of late. "I won't. It's just that I've been here for a little while, and I still don't have any responsibilities. I feel like a guest."

"Don't think that, Carvkae. This is your home now. You aren't a guest here," she said as she put down her empty cup. Her tone left no doubt that the matter was settled. "So what are you really going to do today? I know you're too restless to just sit in the apartment."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find something."

"Carvkae..."

She sighed. "It isn't that I can't keep myself busy, but I was really hoping admin might have some more courier work for me." Best not to mention how the last one of _those_ had worked out. "Maybe a run before dawn? If I'm a few kilometers away by the time the huntresses start, it'll take them a while to catch up."

"You could just run with them you know, some of the maidens who keep a daytime schedule do."

"I'd… rather not." She couldn't face the idea of being a tagalong. Most of the maidens who chased the huntresses did so for reasons other than exercise. Carvkae recognized the looks of distain that the house commandos rewarded on such.

She went for diversion instead. "What are _your_ plans?"

Cerani hid a yawn behind the back of her hand. "The usual, try to get some rest. I _hate_ having to maintain a Citadel schedule when I'm on Thessia. I'm always exhausted."

Carvkae understood. Nearly everyone she encountered on Illium had been transient to one degree or another. It took time to adjust to a new day-night cycle. To deliberately not adjust had to be even worse. Cerani would have to work five and a half shifts over the course of the next four days. Carvkae didn't envy her at all.

"I could bring you dinner tonight, you know, if you want," offered Carvkae hopefully. "One less thing to take care of before you go to work."

"Can't, but I appreciate it. Level 6 assignment. You can't come in, and I can't leave." She stopped at Carvkae's expression. "It isn't secret or anything. We're just supposed to stay focused." She shrugged. "They have us buying so many commodities on the spot markets that any distraction could cost the House tens of thousands of credits."

' _How boring,'_ Carvkae thought. What came out of her mouth was, "Seems like something a VI could do."

"Ha! It's been tried. As soon as dealers know what the VIs are looking for, they make it happen. Automated markets are easy to manipulate. The batarians almost destroyed their economy before they joined the rest of Council Space and made VI trading illegal."

"They should still let you eat," Carvkae couldn't help but be offended on behalf of her roommate.

"Aw, I appreciate it, but Dosaava takes care of us. There's plenty of food in the trading area if we get hungry. There are full meals available before shift starts, or after it ends. It's just that once we sign on we're not supposed to leave our stations. If I want tea or a _ueesa_ stick, I just wave someone over. Anything more elaborate would take my attention away from the terminals anyway."

Carvkae tried to imagine having to be so focused on something she wouldn't be able to eat. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

Cerani came to her rescue before Carvkae could suggest something outlandish. "If you want to help-"

"I do!"

"I know you do. Look, Acinia will be home tonight. She hasn't been ashore for a week. It's her turn to do the commissary run tomorrow, but she'll be tired. I was going to take her turn myself, but if you could…"

"I'll do it," she interrupted eagerly.

"Thank you." Cerani tried unsuccessfully to hide another yawn. "I have to get to bed. Will you be home when I get up?"

"Probably? I mean, I'm not…"

Cerani chuckled. "It's fine. I hope you're home. If not, my next shift ends a little before midnight. I'll be sure to wake you when I come in."

Heat rushed to Carvkae's cheeks. "You don't have to. I mean, I'd like that but I-"

"Hush. Go chase commandos, or swim, or head to the library. Let yourself have fun. I'll see you this afternoon, or tonight." She ran her fingers down Carvkae's arm as she passed. "And I'm not going to be disappointed by either. I won't be sleepy when I get home tonight. Maybe we can watch a vid." She stopped at Carvkae's expression. "Go! Make yourself tired. If you go to bed early I won't feel bad about waking you up at midnight." She turned for her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Carvkae contemplated the closed door for a moment, before heading to her room to collect a jacket. Best she get going before she lost her ambition.

o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o

' _One more!'_

"Four…" Through gritted teeth.

' _Again!'_

"Five…"

' _Last one!"_

"Six…" She huffed.

She let the bar snap into place with a slap. Goddess, she loved strength training. She had nothing to prove here, no one to compare herself to, except herself. If only she were running out onto the field afterwards…

Carvkae rolled off the bench. The gym was filling up with commandos and it wasn't polite to monopolize the equipment. She was done with the bench anyway.

Deadlift was next. She'd already spotted a bar and was on her way towards it when she was interrupted by a voice from behind.

"Carvkae!"

"Yeah?" She replied, stopping mid-stride at the call. She turned, immediately recognizing the huntress behind her.

In a House replete with superb physical specimens, Kaedra stood out. The commando was tall and lean. Well defined, but not musclebound, she had a grace to her movement that made Carvkae think dancer, not huntress. She'd noticed her before. She was a squad leader or some such, and was often calling out cadence when Carvkae encountered her squad on runs. It wasn't often that she had to look up at other asari, but she would readily admit that she didn't mind in this case.

"Shit, it's really you, isn't it?"

"What?" That wasn't what she'd expected. Huntresses were notoriously territorial, and Carvkae had originally thought she'd be asked to use other equipment.

"It's really you," repeated Kaedra, closing the distance between them. "Carvkae from Serrice. I'd heard you'd come, but I thought you'd be with Liara."

For far from the first time, Carvkae wondered what people assumed about her relationship with the nascent Head of House.

"No, she's on Illium." It seemed the easiest response. Fortunately Kaedra seemed more interested in her than in the absent Liara.

"But you're staying here? You're not going back?"

"Not if I can help it." No falsehood there. Illium was a chapter in her life that she would prefer not to revisit.

"Oh," Kaedra replied, appearing uncertain for the first time. "I'd never heard of you coming to the estate before. I thought she'd sent you as an emissary to one of the matriarchs, and you were only here while waiting for a response."

"It's nothing like that. My… job on Illium was finished, and I ran into Liara. She sent me here." She indicated the weight bench she'd just vacated. "Reuesia didn't have any work for me today, so I'm keeping myself busy." Hadn't had work for her for over a week, but no need to mention that.

Kaedra brightened at Reuesia's name. "You _are_ here to stay! I was afraid you might be one of Liara's sojourners." She gestured around them, indicating the ever increasing population at the estate. "There have been so many lately, here with us, but not one of us."

"I'm not sure what I am, really." The insecurity she'd carried since leaving Illium rose to the surface.

"You're home, that's what you are," reassured Kaedra, unknowingly reiterating what Cerani had said earlier. "If Reuesia's giving you duties, she's been told you've become a member of the House." She hesitated. "Unless that's not what you want?"

"It's not that. I just want to do more." Having so much free time was driving her crazy. Even when she'd first lost her opportunity to play professional skyball, she hadn't had so little to do.

Kaedra took another step closer, looking her over. Not that Carvkae minded being the focus of Kaedra's attention. The commando was more than a little attractive, in a capable kind of way.

"I don't know what kind of work Reuesia's been giving you, but you're strong and all of Thessia knows how powerful your biotics are. You could join the House guard. We always need more huntresses."

"More? I see you practice. There must be nearly a thousand commandos here."

"In name only. I wouldn't trust my life with half of them."

Carvkae gaped. "But-"

"The guard is solid, don't misunderstand." She lowered her voice. "But we accept anyone who is part of the House."

"Why would you…?" Carvkae couldn't finish. Even she knew that the security of a Great House as no small affair. To imagine that Liara, or Benezia had left the security of the estate in the hands of amateurs made no sense.

Kaedra laughed. "It's policy. It lets us give any maiden some excitement who wants it, so maybe she won't head to the Terminus to become a mercenary. Anyone who wants to try the life of a huntress, we'll give her a shot. After a decade or two she makes the cut or she'll try something else."

"So, it's like tryouts, only everybody's a walk-on."

"And everyone makes the cut. But you, you'd be a valuable addition."

"I'll think about it." Actually she wouldn't, but she'd been truthful enough so far. "I've already done the 'mercenary in the Terminus' thing. I've had enough of that kind of excitement."

"Oh! I didn't mean to say that being a mercenary was a bad-"

"You don't have to," she interrupted. "It _was_ a bad thing. A bad thing for me, anyway. I'm glad to be back on Thessia." She glanced longingly at the bar she'd chosen, knowing she'd have to warm up again if she wanted to push herself without risking an injury. "Was there something you needed?"

"Not really." Kaedra was hesitant again. "I'm always excited to come across another Serrice fan. We're in short supply around here."

"Yeah," she chuckled. "I imagine that most of the support Serrice might have had evaporated pretty quickly once Liara graduated."

"On no," Kaedra corrected. "Liara went to Serrice against Benezia's will. You couldn't even _mention_ Serrice around here while she was playing."

' _Really,'_ she thought. Why had she never known that? Liara was one of the most private individuals she'd ever met, but this was huge. The heir to a Great House had been estranged from her family? No wonder all she'd done was study.

"You didn't know." Kaedra read the realization on Carvkae's face.

"I knew she didn't go home often…"

"She didn't come home ever. Some of us would get together at Shiala's to watch the games." She grinned. "All very hush hush, you know. Being a Serrice fan was not popular at the estate. And any time Serrice came to play in Armali? Benezia would be angry for _weeks_."

Carvkae could see it. Serrice never lost to Armali. For Liara to play as an opponent had to be particularly aggravating to Benezia. Just imagining the comments from the other matriarchs made her want to giggle.

"Your secret's safe with me."

"That's it! Now that Liara's ascended, we don't have to hide. There still aren't many of us, but we're loyal fans."

"I bet you are. I wouldn't want to cross an angry matriarch just to root for my team."

"Well, it wasn't that bad. And…" She looked around slyly. "Serrice is playing Armali next week. Some of us are going to commandeer the lounge over in compound six. Think you'd be interested? You'll be the star!"

She winced at the comment. She hadn't been the star in a long time. "Sure? I can't promise I'll be free, but if I am, I'd love to come."

"Let me know if you can't. I could copy the vid and we can watch it later." She checked her 'tool. "I have to go, but I'll send a message with the details."

"I'll be…," but by then she was already gone.

' _That was unexpected,'_ thought Carvkae. _'But it completely ruined my workout.'_ She watched as Kaedra left the gym. _'Worth it.'_ She jogged for the bathing area.

o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o

Clean and refreshed, Carvkae made her way around the estate.

She thought about ways to keep herself busy until Cerani left for work. Her roommate needed all the rest she could until her next set of days off. Kaedra's proposition had been both welcome and unanticipated, but it didn't give her something to do now.

She had options. Sometimes she'd go to the school to visit Eleslea and her class. It was an entertaining destination on the biotics training days. Instructors and assistants would lift the children into the air, and the children would try to arrest their falls. Carvkae was popular with the children, as she always threw them the highest. She hoped she was popular with the teacher as well.

Maybe Cerani was right. Maybe she was starting to make more friends than she was giving herself credit for. Too bad the school wasn't really an option. Today was history and philosophy, not biotics. Two subjects that bored her.

But that did give her another idea.

o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o

The sun was almost directly overhead.

It was the perfect placement in what looked to become a perfect afternoon. A warm sea breeze washed over her, the grass she was sitting on was soft and lush. The smell of both combined to make something that brought a peace she hadn't felt in she couldn't remember how long.

She'd spent too much time living in arcologies. She enjoyed the outdoors too much.

In the distance off to her left were the piers. Even through the coastal haze she could see that they were mostly empty. With the beautiful weather, both fishing and pleasure craft taking advantage of the warm winds and calm seas.

To her right, and not nearly as far away, was the estate proper. She'd had to walk around the perimeter to get to her current location.

It didn't matter. Her vantage point, just a few meters back from the cliffs overlooking the ocean, was worth every step.

Children weren't the only ones who used their biotics to arrest their fall.

The cliffs along the estate were popular among maidens. They would leap from the precipice, aglow with biotics, reducing their mass as they flung themselves into the wind. Some would lower their mass so far as to be able to ride the updrafts. Others would gracefully drift to the water, tumbling and spinning in complex motions before parting the waves without a splash.

It was beautiful. Carvkae smiled. She could watch it all day.

Several moments passed before she realized what she was thinking, what she was feeling. For so long she'd been focused on what she'd lost, what had been denied her, that it took her a moment to recognize it. She was _happy_.

She didn't have to worry about where she was going to live next month. She wasn't hungry. She wasn't tired. She wasn't _ashamed_. Liara didn't hate her. She was making new friends. Even if she wasn't quite sure how she was going to fit in here, she no longer questioned if she would.

But it wasn't fair that those maidens should have the sky to themselves.

She was no acrobat, but there was one maneuver that she's seen humans perform in the pools on Illium. With the higher gravity it had been very impressive, and just aggressive enough to appeal to her.

She stood, and started running for the edge, giving it all she had. As she sailed over the edge, she called out the human word that her translator never managed to convert, shouting it as she plummeted between surprised gliders.

"Cannonball!"

In the excitement it took a moment for her to realize the vast difference between a three meter and a thirty-meter fall. She'd barely energized her biotics when the water rushed up to meet her.

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Shepard resurrection

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


	19. Duty

**Summary:**

Events around Carvkae begin to pick up speed as she comes to the realization that she has a larger role to play at House T'Soni than she expected.

 **Reference:**

Double length chapter as Carvkae's story expands. And here I always thought we'd see Denai's backstory first.

This chapter takes us over 100,000 words for Asunder and 400,000 for Cari'ssi'mi (including Drabbles, although many of them aren't on FF because they don't make much sense out of order. I might correct that soon.)

Remember when Asunder was only going to be "Obligations" length?

* * *

 _1986 CE_

Matriarch Laemenia demanded consistency in her life. Not an unusual position for a matriarch, but she was one of the few who took it upon herself to apply her version of that consistency across as many venues as possible.

Which was why she founded a school. An institution whose very foundation was based on Laemenia's idea of the education and guidance that a young asari should receive.

Children and maidens weren't known for their discipline, and if she could instill some upon them, even just the small population whose parent could afford her school, then hers was a life well spent. It was her calling, and she considered herself lucky to have found her life's work while she still had centuries remaining to dedicate to it.

It was early afternoon, and she was engrossed in curriculum design when she heard the outside door open.

' _Odd,'_ thought Laemenia. She had no appointments this afternoon, and it wasn't late enough in the day to be an impatient parent. She knew the schedules for all the children. There were no early pickups today, and no parent would arrive unannounced. Goddess no! Sharvha Academy was far too structured for that. Even Calezis' dreadful krogan husband knew better than to collect his daughter too early or too late. She smiled at the memory. The krogan picked up his daughter twice a week, the days when Calezis was in the city. After some rather intense discussions, he'd finally learned to keep his place in line. These days he could usually be seen chatting with the other parents while waiting for the children to be released. He might occasionally glance in her direction, and Laemenia might even acknowledge him with an approving nod if she felt so inclined.

It had really only taken one 'major' incident for them to reach their current understanding. Her educational competence wasn't limited to children. Even krogan could be brought to heel with appropriate motivation.

She brought herself back to the moment. Whoever had come in obviously wasn't a krogan. They hadn't made a sound. Unusual. She couldn't think of anyone who wouldn't have announced themselves upon arrival. She took a breath to center herself, and circumvent the annoyance rising within. She had no interest in this distraction, but it couldn't be helped as the rest of the staff were with the children. She saved her work and stepped out of her office.

"Maci?" Her visitor was a surprise, but not a pleasant one. The maiden in her lobby was well known to her.

"Matriarch," the girl was hesitant, unlike her typical gregarious self. Also unusual. There were times when Maci's behavior could cause her to be mistaken for one of the children.

' _Goddess.'_ Laemenia closed her eyes and took another breath to stave off an unmatriarchly response. She had a reputation to maintain. Something had happened, no doubt. She could only guess what it might be this time. The maiden was hesitant to even make eye contact. Carvkae's mother must be off planet again, or otherwise again prioritizing her tiny commando unit over her daughter. Laemenia saw no good in it. Serrice already had four chartered militias when Erisslea had petitioned the republic's ministry to charter a fifth. Laemenia had voted against it, of course. Serrice already had too much of a martial bent in her opinion. There was no need to encourage it further. Unfortunately, the manufacturing consortium of Serrice Council carried too much weight with the matriarchy. This was Thessia. As the matriarchs vote, so follows the populace.

As a matriarch herself, Laemenia was usually more than satisfied with that arrangement. In this case, she'd been overruled by the desire of Serrice to have one more outlet for the Serrice Council consortium to demonstrate their wares.

Which was how Erisslea, barely a matron, had managed to maneuver herself into the captaincy of a chartered militia, supported and funded by one of the preeminent republics on Thessia.

"What is it Maci?" The young huntress still hadn't spoken. Erisslea placed too much responsibility on her young lieutenant, and sometimes it showed. Laemenia stepped to the still silent maiden. "Is Erisslea not coming to pick Carvkae up today?" She waited for a response before continuing. "She can't keep doing this to her you know. If you and the rest of her little band of huntresses requires this much attention, then she needs to step down, or at least learn to delegate. Give the child fifty years or so to learn she can depend on her mother before leaving on missions to goddess knows where." She was on a roll now. "It isn't like Serrice needs another commando unit. You Paladins end up taking jobs all over the Republics just to stay busy." That comment might not make it back to Erisslea in its entirety, but it would certainly let the matron know that she was not impressed with her behavior.

"I'm here for Carvkae," Maci finally responded. "I need to bring her to Erisslea."

"No," responded Laemenia flatly. "It's too early. You know the rules. Just because our schedule is inconvenient for-"

" _Please_ Matriarch," Maci interrupted, shocking Laemenia by doing so. "There isn't much time."

"Isn't much time for what?" Demanded Laemenia.

Maci finally met her glare.

' _Oh.'_ Further words were unnecessary.

Matriarchs might be known to linger overlong on decisions, but Laemenia was faster than most. She also wasn't one to hesitate once that decision was made. She activated her omni-tool with a flick of her fingers. "Myral, bring Carvkae to my office at once. Bring her coat as well. She'll be leaving." An uncertain voice began to raise an objection before Laemenia cut her off. "No discussion, Myral. Just do as I say."

She returned her attention to Maci. The maiden was starting to shake, and Laemenia placed a hand on the maiden's shoulder to steady her. _'Too much responsibility indeed,'_ she thought.

"Wait here, child," she comforted. "You're in no condition to drive. I'll get my things."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

 _2040 CE_

Her omni-tool chimed softly, muted after a handful of fumbled attempts to silence it. Her eye opened, the barest of slivers, but enough to confirm there was only the first hint of light outside her window. She closed the disappointed eye with a sigh.

It was early. Too early, yet also exactly on time.

' _I'm not getting up.'_ She curled into herself, pulling her bedding tightly around her.

' _I've been good for two weeks,'_ she thought. _'More than good. No one's going to know if I sleep in today.'_

That was it, she decided. She'd remain in her bed until midday. When she just couldn't force herself to stay under the covers any longer, she'd get up, shower, and make her way to the market. Kyora should still have some _egance_ fruit left. Tart and sweet, it was one of her favorites. As such, it was a treat that Maci would only allow in moderation.

' _Not today!'_ She thought evilly. Kyora would be nearing the end of her workday by the time Carvkae planned to arrive. They might talk for a while, idle comments about the weather and the next rotation of crops to be harvested. Maybe some harmless gossip while she put her goods away, and then _"Oh, Carvkae, I know you love these so much. Just take them all,"_ she could almost hear Kyora make the suggestion when Carvkae would offer to buy two.

Of course she couldn't insult her generosity by turning them down. Her mouth was watering already, just thinking about it. She would have _egance_ for lunch _and_ dinner.

' _Sigh…'_ Such a beautiful fantasy. She cursed Maci mildly, internally blaming the older maiden as the incarnation of her conscience.

It didn't matter. She might grumble and complain, but it wouldn't keep her from starting her day. She was too disciplined for that. When it was time to get up, she got up.

She slid out from under the covers, placing her feet on the cool stone of the floor. She pulled the sheets up as she stood, that much easier to make the bed. Make it first, before she exercised, before she showered. Open the curtains, open the windows, listen to the pre-dawn silence typical at the edge of the city. There was just a hint of chill to the morning air. It would warm quickly today, she knew. Best to hurry, get her morning run in before their little compound was fully in the sun. She slipped on a pair of shorts and running shoes before heading downstairs. The others might run in leathers, but Maci would never let her. Didn't want her getting 'ideas.' It wasn't like she didn't live with a goddess-damned commando unit.

"Your mother would never forgive me." The persuasion of last resort, the one against which she had no defense. Carvkae hated being so easy to manipulate, but it was her own doing. Maci worked so hard keeping the Paladins together.

And Carvkae expected to become one of them someday.

But for now she was… something. She wasn't really sure what. She wasn't a huntress, all of her sneakily obtained training notwithstanding. At seventy-seven she was still too young to be seen as able to make her own choices, but old enough to chafe at the restrictions placed on her by the adults in her life.

Using the term adult loosely, of course. The Paladins were entirely made up of maidens.

Maci did her best. Sometimes she was able to recruit a matron, usually one who was far from the peak of her career. They'd even had a matriarch once, Verix. She'd taught Carvkae so much about biotics during her time with them, time the matriarch had spent trying to find a noble cause to sacrifice herself for. There were few old commandos, and matriarchs were almost unheard of. Too many memories, too many lost comrades. Eventually she'd departed, following the rumor of an ardat-yakshi that had decimated the crew of an asteroid mine. They'd never heard from her again, but Carvkae still thought of her often.

Silent footfalls as she darted through the downstairs, checking security, taking a quick glance through the comms, generally making sure that nothing was out of place. Heva didn't stir at the disturbance, the old varren lying across the doorway to Maci's office, once her mother's. "Good morning, 'K." Maci's voice calling her by her nickname when Carvkae activated the squad's main terminals. Maci always recorded enough greetings and messages to get Carvkae through any time she was away. Any distraction was good. She knew Carvkae hated being alone.

She palmed the lock to the outside door, the rush of cool air driving away the last of her fatigue. She ignored the track looping around the exercise area, her preference for the feel of natural terrain beneath her feet. Determined footsteps took her from the compound and up into the rolling hills. Dirt kicked up behind her as she lengthened her stride, racing the sunrise.

The day had turned bright when stepped out of the shower, light from Parnitha streaming across her room, and the sky outside a brilliant lavender. The brightness was a direct counterpoint to her rapidly darkening mood, the heights brought about from pushing her physical limits declining as she dressed before facing the responsibilities that lie ahead.

Maci wasn't gone often, and Carvkae hated when she was. Just like she hated it when Janna was gone. Or Riva. Or Nhanide. Even Kinira, no matter how much she teased her. Honestly, she hated when any of the Paladins were gone, but when they were all gone, it was worse.

It sucked. More than anything else, she despised the solitude. It was happening more and more often of late. The choses didn't bother her, she just liked to have someone to _talk_ to.

"'K, don't forget that Saedoa visits today." Maci's voice was a gentle reminder once she came back downstairs. The recordings didn't stem from any belief that Carvkae couldn't be trusted to remember, but to keep her company.

Carvkae might roll her eyes at the idea of the voice memos, but she truly didn't mind. She would have kept herself busy in any event, and she appreciated the trouble Maci went to record the reminders. The common areas were clean. Food had been ordered, and a healthy selection at that. As always, she'd resisted the temptation to stock up on snacks and treats. Heva was fed, wherever the old varren was hiding now, and she'd responded to the few calls that had been routed to the complex.

Not that there had been many. Most of the calls that came into their little compound were for the individual huntresses, and would have been routed to their omni-tools via the closest comm buoy. As for the rest, most would be for Maci, and Saedoa was very much aware that Maci was offworld.

Saedoa was Serrice's current liaison to the Paladins. The matron made no effort to hide her distaste in being assigned the role. She didn't approve of the Paladins in general, or Maci in particular. As Carvkae still held the Paladin charter she'd inherited, Saedoa didn't like her very much either.

It made for interesting interactions. Maci's team was young and capable. Small and lightly equipped, they could be deployed into situations where a larger force would be excessive, or simply not politically prudent. The local matriarchs had grown accustomed to assigning them to situations where deterrence was the desired effect. Assault weapons were far more accepted by the local populace when they were wielded by smiling maidens. That their youthful faces played well on the vids didn't hurt either.

As there was always a need for security and escort details, the Serrice matriarchs kept the small band of Paladins busy.

Though steady, the work also caused a bit of a problem for Maci. Photogenic or not, most huntresses joined a commando outfit for the excitement and danger. Not that escorting a celebrity didn't come with its own hazards, but those were usually limited to keeping other maidens at an appropriate distance.

The six maidens who had been members of the militia when Erisslea died were still who Carvkae meant when she thought of "The Paladins". Maci was devoted to Carvkae, the Paladins, and loyal to her promise to Erisslea to care for them both. The other maidens were loyal to Maci. Matrons and older maidens who passed through the roster weren't inclined to follow a youngster whose sole criteria to be named commander was that Erisslea knew she could trust her with her daughter. Untested leadership and a seemingly endless series of assignments that lacked challenge created a recruitment problem for Serrice's youngest commando unit. Experienced commandos were drawn to the more mature units. If a huntress with experience applied for membership with the Paladins, there was usually a reason they wouldn't be accepted somewhere else.

So, the Paladin roster was usually rounded out with "wannabes". Maidens who had the desire to be huntresses, but came from families that didn't have a martial history. A maiden whose mother never learned how to generate a strong barrier probably wouldn't be able to teach their daughter to make one either.

That didn't mean they were without potential, and Maci had built a reputation on being able to work with potential.

But a half century of training maidens, only to have the good ones move on, left Maci receptive to trying other options. She didn't want to lose her core team of huntresses, so in an effort to make serving with the Paladins more appealing, she'd petitioned the matriarchs for missions with a bit more distinction.

Amazingly, they agreed. The Paladins now found themselves being posted away from Thessia on occasion, in addition to their typical high profile but low risk assignments.

This was one of the few times so far that the entire squad had been deployed.

As the day progressed, Carvkae kept herself busy, but was bored all the same. There just wasn't enough to do when she had the compound to herself. She was too disciplined to allow herself to sit idle, but finding things to do was pushing the limits of her creativity.

' _Maybe if I had friends,'_ she thought resentfully. Not that she meant it. The Paladins had been both her friends and family since she was born. It was like having more sisters than any asari ever actually would.

Early afternoon found her in the courtyard, practicing her biotics. There was a limited number of exercises that Maci considered low enough risk for Carvkae to perform with no one else home. That meant for instance that Carvkae was restricted to resistance training instead of the weights she preferred, but biotics were another story entirely. She could lift boulders until they were a glowing speck above her. And throws? Pulls? None of the Paladins were her equal. A few hours of pushing herself and she'd be comfortably tired in the evening. She was so focused on holding one of the benches in the air that she almost didn't hear her omni-tool's chime of signaling that someone was at the entry.

She threw a towel around her shoulders and she jogged for the door. She tapped her 'tool to activate the porch camera, surprised to see Saedoa, nearly two hours early, with a commando she didn't know. _'Perfect,'_ she thought, having intended another shower before their appointment.

She connected to the front door speaker as she made her way through the house. "Be right there."

She palmed the door open and immediately turned her back on Saedoa. She headed in the direction of Maci's office, leaving the others to follow. "Maci left everything in the same places she always does, and you have access to all the usual systems. Everything should be in order." _'Just like it always is,'_ she thought. Saedoa might not approve of the Paladins, but her relationship with Maci wasn't a hostile one, and her audits were typically cursory. That didn't mean that Carvkae would be surprised if she used this opportunity to dive more deeply into militia business than usual. She wasn't concerned. They had nothing to hide. Maci wouldn't let any malfeasance tarnish the memory to Carvkae's mother. Erisslea was more an ideal now, than a person. She was the standard that Maci held them all to.

"Maiden Miris."

Carvkae jerked to a stop, turning at the unfamiliar voice, only then realizing that Saedoa and her companion hadn't followed any further than the entryway.

"Yeah?" She answered, heading back.

"Is there somewhere we could sit down?"

Her eyes flashed to Saedoa, but the matron's face was blank, no answers forthcoming.

"Uh, sure." She nodded her head towards the common area. "There's plenty of room." She changed mental direction at the unexpected request. She'd originally believed the commando was along to assist Saedoa in some way. "Can I get you anything? Tea? Juice? Something to eat?" She was suddenly glad the pantry was stocked in expectation of the Paladin's homecoming a few days hence. She might not have guests often, but she wasn't uncivilized.

"No, thank you." The unknown commando declined her offer as she made her way to one of many couches in the room, taking a seat while Saedoa did the same. "Please sit down."

This was suddenly all too familiar for Carvkae, and she stopped mid-motion on her way to her own seat. "I'd rather stand. Who are you anyway? I don't know why Saedoa brought you today, but I am very busy-"

Saedoa closed her eyes while the commando reiterated her request. "My name is Jaiynis, and I believe it would be better if you sat down."

" _Would it?!_ " Carvkae's voice surged from calm to hysteria in one leap. "Nothing I do is going to make any difference! _Is it?!_ " She whirled to Saedoa. "Who died that you couldn't tell me yourself? That you had to bring someone else so you wouldn't have to? Coward! The matriarchs must have _made_ you come. I'm sure if it were up to you, you would have waited for Maci-" She stopped short.

"Maci," she whispered, suddenly nauseated and dizzy.

Jaiynis stood, and collected Carvkae, guiding her to a seat. Carvkae fell heavily, nearly collapsing, catching her face in her hands. "Maci… Maci," she muttered.

Jaiynis turned to Saedoa. "Water, please." She gave the matron a moment to leave before addressing Carvkae.

She sat down next to the maiden and placed an arm across Carvkae's shoulders as an offering of support. "You should not have had to find out from a stranger," a judgmental glance in Saedoa's direction at that. "But I volunteered to come. Know that you are not alone."

"Not alone?" Carvkae sobbed. "I've been alone for two weeks. Who are you?"

"My name is Jaiynis," the commando repeated. "And I am a huntress, as you can see." When Carvkae didn't respond she continued. "I was a friend of your mother's."

"My mother's?" Carvkae managed to choke out through the sobs. There was a time that she would have jumped at any chance to learn more about her mother, but now she just felt numb.

"Yes," came the reply. "She was my _voulos_ , one of the best I ever trained."

"You should have done better," came the hostile response. "Then maybe she wouldn't be dead too."

"A huntress serves at the pleasure of Kurinth. To accept her blessings, is to be subject to her call." Jaiynis spoke as if it were an incontrovertible truth. "Her gifts are not without price."

"Not without price?" Carvkae screamed as she tried unsuccessfully to pull away from Jaiynis' grasp. "She's dead! Now Maci's dead too! This isn't some temple service where you get to hide behind the writings of _siari_ and tell me that Maci's still with me. She's gone! I know what that means! She's never coming back!"

"They died as heroes," replied Jaiynis, causing Carvkae to jerk in the realization that it wasn't only Maci that she'd lost. "They died performing their duty. They died saving lives."

"They?!" Carvkae's voice rose even louder. "It's not just Maci?! How many were lost?"

"I am sorry." Jaiynis squeezed the shoulder underneath her hand. "I know it brings you no comfort, but many asari are alive right now because..."

"Do you think I care?" Carvkae interrupted, her voice reaching new heights of emotion. "They still died!"

"Of course you care." Jaiynis looked around at the room they occupied. "Look at how much Maci achieved here. How much all the Paladins achieved. You aspire to this. You know the risks they took."

"No." Carvkae was openly sobbing now. "They don't take risks. Just the easy details. Support missions. They're responsible for the light work so the other militias are free to go where they're needed." She hesitated. "Maci _promised_."

"So they were," conceded Jaiynis. "And this time they were reinforcing Rhemila of the Peltasts."

"I don't care!"

Saedoa had been waiting in the doorway, and took this moment to join them, sitting opposite Carvkae. "You'll feel better if you-"

Carvkae slapped the offered water away, shattering the glass. "Get away from me."

"I only want to-"

"Shut up!" Carvkae cut her off again. "Maci's dead. The Paladins are gone. You got what you wanted!"

"It's not like that-"

"You hated us before and I don't believe you now." She tried to rise, still held in place by Jaiynis. "Get out!"

"Enough," said Jaiynis calmly. "Both of you." She looked to Saedoa first. "The child is understandably distraught, and you are not helping matters. It would be best if you waited somewhere else."

"She's my responsibility," began Saedoa.

"Not today," replied Jaiynis, still holding the shaking Carvkae. "Perhaps never."

"You don't get to make that decision."

"Go." Jaiynis' tone bode no argument.

As soon as Saedoa left the room, Carvkae spoke again. "How did they die?"

"I do not believe you are ready-"

"Was it your fault?" Carvkae attacked. "You said you trained my mother. She trained Maci. _Was this your fault?_ "

Jaiynis shook her head. "Poor instruction was not what brought your mother to her end. Quite the opposite. It was her sense of duty. It seems she had no small skill in instilling those principles in others."

Carvkae just glared. "What. Happened."

Jaiynis allowed herself a resigned sigh. "Serrice sent the Peltasts to Chalkhos." She made eye contact with the maiden she still held across her shoulders. "You know Chalkos?"

"Get on with it," replied Carvkae through gritted teeth.

"Of course. Chalkos is a Terminus world, and a common target for pirates. Intelligence indicated a raid was imminent. Our plan was to deploy in advance, and ambush them on the ground."

"Sounds like it didn't work," pressured Carvkae angrily.

"It was a sound strategy," replied Jaiynis. "The Paladins accompanied, to be held in reserve. They remained in orbit, as to have a mobility advantage in case the pirates were reinforced."

"You're not telling me anything!"

Jaiynis maintained her calm demeanor. "There were additional pirates in the system, but they were not ground forces. Their strategy was one of pyrrhic victory. Instead of landing to engage, they used their ship to push an asteroid into a collision course with the planet. It is a strategy that is becoming more common."

Carvkae's eyes were round in horror. She knew what an asteroid strike could do to an inhabited biosphere.

"The Paladins were not equipped to defend against attack in space. Our ship could not make orbit in time." Jaiynis paused. "Maci used the only weapon she had at her disposal, the shuttle containing her team."

"But it wasn't armed…"

"Mass is a weapon. Velocity is a weapon. Neither would be much use against an enemy encased in a mass effect field, but the asteroid was not."

Carvkae looked at her in horror.

When Carvkae displayed no indication of further hysterics, Jaiynis released her to activate her omni-tool. "She recorded a message." The question was implied.

Carvkae could only nod.

Jaiynis tapped her 'tool, filling the room with the sounds of a shuttle operating well outside its design parameters. After a moment Maci's voice could be heard over the din.

"Hey there 'K. Not much time left. I wanted to say that I'm proud of you. We're all proud of you." Carvkae wiped her eyes as the noises of the shuttle came through Jaiynis' 'tool. "I'm sorry I won't be coming home, and I'm sorry I won't get to meet the amazing huntress that I know you'll become." She heard Maci take a deep breath as alarms starting sounding in the background. "But that's _all_ I'm sorry about. I wanted to make a difference. All of us did. And we are. We'll be remembered for that. Your mother's militia will be remembered for that." A few muffled words so someone away from the audio pickup. "You're just like her you know? Smart, brave, disciplined. The Paladins are going to be something special when you're old enough to lead them."

"They already are," Carvkae choked out through sobs.

"Saedoa!" Maci's words grew louder as she started talking faster. "She's old enough to make a claim on all of her mother's assets, including the militia charter. I have friends who'll know if you don't treat her fairly. They're not people you'll want to-"

"That's where it ends." Jaiynis deactivated her 'tool as she reached to put her arm back around Carvkae's shoulder. "I count myself as one of the friends to whom she referred. I'm sorry for your-"

"Don't say it."

"You are very like your mother," commented Jaiynis after a time. "I see a great deal of her in you."

"The person you knew died a long time ago," dismissed Carvkae. "My mother might have been the first Paladin, but it was Maci who made the Paladins what they became." She sniffled before whispering. "It was Maci who made me who I am."

"You have had many honorable influences in your life," agreed Jaiynis. "Saedoa has told me much about you. It was your choice to live your life as an embodiment of those beliefs."

"I never had a choice!" She wailed.

"Life is choice young huntress. I think I will choose to remain here for a time."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Carvkae woke to the unpleasant sensation of someone squeezing her crests. She opened a bleary eye, revealing the somewhat bothersome attention to be from House T'Soni's resident physician.

"Stop it." Carvkae tried weakly to push the offending hands away.

Iadri didn't pause. "No."

"No?" Both eyes were open now. "What kind of practitioner are you? Can't you tell if I'm injured with your omni-tool?"

The pressure continued unabated. "I am able to establish the degree of regeneration with a scan, yes, but not how your injuries feel to you. That requires manipulation."

"It hurts! That's how it feels to me."

Iadri released Carvkae's head and stepped back from the diagnostic bed. "Good." She activated her omni-tool and made a brief notation. "Move onto your left side now, I need to check your ribs."

"Good?" Carvkae questioned even as she complied. "Why is it good that my head hurts?"

The doctor ran her hands down the ribs on Carvkae's right side. "One of the reasons that pain exists is as an incentive for an organism to modify future behavior." She stepped back. "Roll to your right."

"And my behavior needs to be modified?" Carvkae turned over.

Iadri lifted the frock that had tucked under the maiden with her motion. "Can you feel this?" She pushed into Carvkae's side.

"Ow!"

"Then yes, I would posit that behavior modification would provide you with some benefit. On your back, please."

Carvkae rolled onto her back with a glare. "That's it? You're just going to leave me in pain?"

"If it were my intent to leave you untreated, I would not have awakened you. As I stated, your participation was necessary to fully ascertain your condition." She removed a pair of gloves. "I've already applied an analgesic. It should alleviate any residual discomfort within a few minutes."

"Oh." Carvkae's annoyed look brightened. "Good!" She started to sit up only to have Iadri push her back down with a firm hand to the chest.

"That did not mean that you were free to go."

"But you said-"

"I said that I administered an analgesic. What I did not have time to say is that you will be spending the night in the infirmary."

"Spending the-" Carvkae cut herself off in confusion. "Practitioner, I feel fine! I've been hurt a lot worse than this and went on to play half a skyball game!"

"You have no idea how little that statement incents me to modify my decision."

"Look, I promise that I'll come back if anything hurts." She started to sit up, only to be pushed down again. "It's just that I have a-. I'm meeting someone this evening."

"And I am expected to accept your assurances that you will interrupt your liaison in the event you feel discomfort?" Iadri rolled her eyes for the first time. "Despite prevailing opinion, I was not born a matriarch." She waited to see understanding in Carvkae's eyes. "I am aware of your intended social engagement. Young Cerani has already contacted me in an effort to determine your condition."

"She did?" Carvkae was pushed back down to the bed for a third time. "Goddess, what did you say? What did she say? Did you tell her I was all right? Was she upset?"

"Would you expect that she was upset?" There was a hint of curiosity in Iadri's tone.

Carvkae sighed. "She was upset, wasn't she?"

"More so, I believe, by the fact that I would not provide any detail to her about your condition than by any action by your part."

"What? Why not?" Her voice took on a softer tone. "I am going to be all right, aren't I?"

"I have no reason to suspect otherwise, but I also would not share information about one of my patients with a third party." She paused. "No matter how much they might insist."

"It's fine! She's my roommate!" She put a hand to her forehead. "Crap. I promised I'd take her turn going to the commissary too. She'll hate me."

"Given her level of interest in your condition, I find that statement to be unlikely."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Despite what you might believe, maidens did not only not invent sex, they were not the first to experience intimacy nor enter relationships." She waited for Carvkae's pout to pass. "I have advice, if it interests you."

"Advice? Are you going to tell me to take the long view, and that tomorrow's another day?"

"Hardly. I have never found that perspective to be particularly helpful."

"Huh. Never thought I'd hear that from a matriarch. Sure, why not? What do I have to lose?"

"What indeed. A great deal may depend on your answer. Do you intend to remain with us?"

"What?"

"House T'Soni. What are your intentions here?"

"I don't really have any intentions. Liara told me to come. I came. Seemed like a better idea than getting shot in some alley."

"I agree with your appraisal of the situation. Allow me to clarify; Do you intend to remain at the estate?"

Carvkae pursed her lips and seemed to contemplate her response for a moment while Iadri looked on calmly.

"Well… Even if you ignore the fact that I don't have anywhere else to go, I do like it here."

"You do?" Iadri questioned.

"I do," confirmed Carvkae firmly. "I've been making friends, maybe even more than friends," she conceded with a sheepish look. "I've never been anywhere in the asari space where things move as quickly as they are here. Housing, farming, manufacturing, shipbuilding, whatever Liara's got going here, it's not like anything I've seen before." She paused. "I think I want to be part of that."

"You sound hesitant."

"I know I want to be here, but I don't know if I'm wanted here."

"You claim you've made friends, and Liara herself invited you."

"Sure, but Liara was trying to save my life."

"A worthy intention."

Carvkae chuckled. "Yeah, I kinda like that one too. But otherwise, outside of the people I've met, it doesn't seem like anyone knows what to do with me, while at the same time they're not sure what Liara wants." She shrugged as well as her position would allow. "I think people assume Liara and I were lovers."

That brought a rare chuckle from Iadri. "Child, I assure you that no one who knows Liara assumes that you were lovers." She raised a hand to silence the beginning of a protest. "No affront intended in regards to your desirability as a companion, but Liara took no partners until her bondmate."

"She's _bonded_?" Carvkae was shocked.

"It is… a long story. In any event, that belief should not weigh on any decision."

"Liara's done a lot for me. More than I'd been willing to admit, really. I don't want to be a burden." Her features turned morose. "More of a burden. I just don't know how to be useful here."

" _That_ is not your concern."

"Matriarch?"

"Now you 'matriarch' me?"

"I just-"

"It amuses me somewhat that after a mere ten-odd weeks you believe yourself equipped to judge how you can best serve the House?"

"Do _you_ wait to be told what to do?" Carvkae replied angrily. "I feel like a guest here!"

Iadri contemplated the maiden for a moment. "You believe we are peers? Our stations equivalent?"

' _Oh fuck,'_ thought Carvkae. "I intended no disrespect-"

"Undoubtably. Nevertheless, I believe I have the answers I seek." She turned to door, dimming the lights as she went. "Sleep now." The door slid silently shut behind her.

' _Wonderful. A member of the House senior leadership offers you advice, and instead you insult her. You'll be lucky if they don't ship you off to an eezo mine before Liara ever returns.'_

Carvkae fell asleep still wondering how she could salvage the situation.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was after midnight when Carvkae woke to voices outside her room.

"…happened? Nevermind. Through here." Carvkae recognized Iadri's voice, her distinctive tones discernible as she maintained a calm demeanor despite at least two others trying to talk over her.

Someone had obviously come seeking the doctor's aid. Carvkae was surprised that Iadri was even in the infirmary this late. She would have expected that oversight of her lone patient would have been passed to a tech or medic. She certainly didn't feel she was in need of medical supervision.

Overcome by curiosity, she listened for a moment, trying to gain a sense for what was going on. Her inquisitive nature overcame her fear of invoking the doctor's wrath, and she swung herself off the bed. She padded lightly to the door, blinking into the unexpected brightness as she opened it.

Iadri was guiding three asari into the clinic's small treatment area. A maiden and matron were assisting a second, injured matron to one of the diagnostic beds while Iadri directed them both. Carvkae winced at the sight of the injured matron's leg, soaked in purple blood.

"There. Just like that." Iadri instructed the maiden who held the injured matron in a biotic field. "Right here now. Slowly let your field dissipate." The injured matron shouted in pain as her full weight returned. "I said slowly!" She admonished as the younger maiden stepped aside.

Iadri addressed the uninjured matron as she scanned the injury with her omni-tool. "What happened?"

The matron looked to Iadri without releasing her hold on her injured companion. "We were working security at the quarry when one of the sensors activated. This one here," she indicated the third member of their party, currently standing away from the others with a horrified look on her face, "was _climbing_ one of the debris piles."

"At midnight?" Iadri challenged.

"It wasn't my fault! I didn't know anyone was going to be there! I was only trying to-" the maiden's defense was interrupted by a loud groan from the injured matron.

"Enough. Are you injured?"

"…No?"

"Then get out. Report to security for administrative punishment first thing in the morning." She scowled at the frightened maiden. "Otherwise I will be forced to suggest to Praeri that she have criminal charges filed against you."

"I didn't mea-"

"Out!" Thundered Iadri.

The maiden fled.

"You," Iadri returned her focus to the uninjured matron and nodded back and forth between the pair. "You're close?"

"We're colleagues," answered the standing matron. She looked to her injured companion, the other matron's face contorted in pain. "I mean we're-"

"I know you work together." The pair were identically dressed in the jumpsuits worn by services staff at the estate. "Are the two of you close enough that you can assist her with her pain?"

The matron's eyes widened as she turned again to her injured associate, who nodded vigorously.

"Good. Move back. Stand up by her head." Iadri helped lay the injured matron down before looking up to the other. "Now would be a good time to start."

Two pairs of eyes went black, and the injured matron visibly relaxed for the first time since Carvkae began observing.

Iadri generated a blade from her omni-tool and began cutting into her patient's jumpsuit, making comments to herself as she did to. She let a strip of blood stained fabric drop to the floor.

"Carvkae!" Iadri barked at the maiden, startling her. Until that moment Carvkae had been certain the matriarch wasn't aware of her presence.

"Y-yes?"

"Here." She nodded to a position next to her.

Carvkae quickly moved to join the doctor next to her patient.

"Give me your hands." Once she did so, Iadri placed them on the injured matron's calf. "Grip here, firmly." She looked intently at Carvkae. "Can you do this? If not, a medic or one of the other doctors can be summoned. That is also acceptable, however they," she indicated the two melded matrons "will be in pain until assistance can arrive."

"I can do it." Carvkae nodded her affirmation.

"Excellent." Iadri accepted Carvkae's statement without question. "Stand here." She moved Carvkae's body slightly. "Hold just so," she said as she proceeded to adjust her hands.

"What am I doing?"

"The patient has a compound fracture. The bone must be positioned before treatment can begin," she explained with clinical detachment. "I will hold her knee and hip in an appropriate placement. You will pull her leg gently, but firmly, until you hear the pop."

"All right." She waited for more. "Then what," she asked finally.

"Then stop pulling."

"I mean-"

"Questions later. Pull now."

Carvkae pulled. Both matrons flinched as the bone changed position, but neither cried out.

"Enough," commanded Iadri. "Hold there for a moment." She waited until she was certain Carvkae wasn't going to move. "Fine. Now without letting go, slowly reduce the strength of your pull."

Carvkae slowly lessened how hard she was pulling.

"Stop there." Iadri glanced at the pair, confirming they were still connected. "You can let go now."

"Was that it?"

"No." She began collecting implements from a nearby drawer. "The bone is close enough to position that I can finish stabilizing it now. Once complete, I can begin the procedure to knit the bone. It is a time consuming process, but not complex. Then the wound must be sterilized, the damaged tissue repaired, and finally a round of antibiotics to destroy any biological contaminants that invaded her body."

"What do I do?"

"You should-" Iadri stopped.

Carvkae waited while Iadri hesitated. The entire event still felt surreal to her. She'd expected to be banished to her bed as soon as she'd been noticed. To have been allowed to remain, to have the matriarch accept her assistance, particularly knowing what Iadri seemed to think of her, left Carvkae feeling proud but confused.

"Matriarch?" She asked hopefully.

Iadri simply stared at her for a moment.

"Is there something-"

"It is not often that Alaya and I agree," interrupted Iadri.

"I'm sorry?" Carvkae was growing more perplexed by the moment.

"I was reflecting that Alaya's suggestion might not have been without merit. You desire to help?"

"In any way that I can," replied Carvkae, finally on certain ground.

"As you wish," nodded Iadri. She took a breath before rattling off instruction. "Collect a chair and drink for our patient's companion. She has at least two hours ahead of her, and she will need her strength. Then wash your hands thoroughly…"

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was nearly daybreak by the time Carvkae made it back to her apartment. She was still earlier than she'd expected. Her time with Iadri had been both tiring and confusing, but at least the original requirement of remaining for observation had been lost to the events of the night.

Her attempt at silent homecoming was thwarted before it began. Cerani was waiting, not at all quietly. Her roommate almost knocked her off her feet once she stepped through the door.

"Carvkae!" She practically shrieked as she powered into the unprepared Carvkae. "You're all right!"

"Hey," she grabbed Cerani, staggering but not falling. It was a near thing. "Yes, I'm fine. I'm perfect." She yawned. "I _am_ tired."

"And how was I supposed to know that?" She accused. "I heard you jumped off one of the Edoor Cliffs and fell all the way to the water without using your biotics! What were you thinking? That's nearly a hundred meters! Were you _trying_ to kill yourself?" Tears formed in Cerani's eyes as she edged closer to hysteria.

"Hold on," Carvkae gently pushed her roommate out to arms length, looking directly into her eyes to stress her words. "Yes, I'm fine. Yes, I jumped into the sea, but from one of the lowest cliffs. It was thirty meters, tops. It was no big deal. Humans did that all the time back on Illium, and almost none of them even _have_ biotics."

"Most humans don't have a lot of sense either if they throw themselves off cliffs at full mass."

"Apparently it's a sport on their homeworld." She shook her head. "Doesn't matter. I'm OK, I just got a little carried away."

"A little carried away? You were unconscious when they brought you to the infirmary. I only knew that much because Acinia heard that much from one of the huntresses who brought you in. No one would tell me anything! You had me terrified!"

' _Ouch. She got me there.'_ Carvkae cringed at the realization that of course Cerani had no way to check on her status. She had no living relatives, and she'd never Named anyone their stead. "Sorry, I didn't think-"

"No, you didn't!" Interrupted Cerani. "You never told me who to go to if something happens to you! You never told any of us! Who's your _eivaa_? If Iadri wouldn't tell me how you were doing, at least let me know who she could have told!"

"I um, I-" Carvkae hedged.

Cerani's eyes widened. _"You don't have one?"_

"It never occurred to me! I didn't know anyone when I got here, and I wasn't sure that I should impose. By the time I thought maybe I could, I thought maybe it had been too long-"

"Carvkae. Stop." Cerani closed the distance between them and put a hand on each of Carvkae's cheeks. "Do you want me to be your _eivaa_? It doesn't have to mean anything else, and if it does, that's all right too."

"You wouldn't mind? I don't want to-"

"Carvkae."

"Sorr-"

"Stop."

"OK." She smiled shyly before brightening. "Wait! Do you need me to be yours too?"

Cerani shook her head. "Goddess Carvkae, I have eighteen. Of course you're welcome to be one. I'd want you to know what was going on if something happened to me. That's what friends do."

"I know but-"

"I'm serious. People care about you. When you don't consider that, it makes us feel like we don't matter."

"I never meant-"

"Shhh." Cerani put a finger to Carvkae's lips. "I know. Enough about that for now."

"You can put me on that list too," called Acinia from her bedroom. "Then maybe we could get some sleep around here."

"Sor-" Carvkae's call was cut short by Cerani's glare. "Will do," she finished.

"Good," came the shouted reply. "Sleeping now."

With a giggle, Cerani pulled Carvkae into the kitchen where tea was waiting. "I kept some ready."

Carvkae took a mug gratefully. "It's almost like the last day never happened."

"It did though."

Carvkae almost choked on her tea. "I almost forgot to tell you! I'm getting assigned!"

"I thought so," Carani smiled over her tea.

"You thought so? How?"

"Your terminal's been chiming since last night. Haven't you checked your 'tool?"

Carvkae shook her head as she activated her omni-tool. "No, I was in the infirmary, remember? Iadri was _very specific_ that I leave it off." She opened the message that was flashing priority. "I don't understand…"

"What is it?" Cerani craned her neck to try to see.

"I thought it was going to be my assignment details." She scrolled through the message confusedly.

"It's not?"

"Iadri wants me to join the next medic certification, we discussed it this morning. It's another tenday from now. She's going to send me the details." She indicated the lengthy message scrolling on her omni-tool. "This isn't that."

Cerani came around to see. "Oh," she breathed quietly.

"That's it? 'Oh?' What's going on? Who is 'Denai'? Why is she sending me travel instructions and a shuttle reservation?"

"I'll help you pack. We can talk on the way to Armali."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Carvkae knew that Pineios Station was huge. So much traffic went through coming and going from Thessia. She'd been off planet many times. She'd strolled the promenades, shopped the malls, eaten at the restaurants. She'd even seen the cargo docks on more than one 'mission' for Ralith. She'd just been a messenger, some time courier and reliable distraction, but Ralith had her maintain a legitimate front. That meant coming for a reasonable purpose, even if that was just a day of shopping and tourism. It was inconvenient for non-biotic aliens to stay on Thessia for too long, eezo concentrations being what they were. Many set up storefronts on Pineios, making their wares a day trip away from the most lucrative market in the galaxy. She liked people, and made the most of it.

So many visits to the station, yet she hadn't known this area even existed.

The cargo areas weren't nearly as elegant as the passenger terminals. Even the passenger terminals had an obvious class ranking as one gradually transitioned from the areas serving scheduled transport to chartered. She knew the elite had their private docks, for those who could afford to leave their ships tethered to Pineios when not in use. There was a great deal of wealth on Thessia, and for those who desired isolation, privacy was one more commodity to be purchased.

But Carvkae never knew there were private _terminals_. Of course if she had, she would have assumed that House T'Soni would have one.

Her credentials had allowed her to pass unmolested into sections of the station that became progressively more affluent. As she'd passed from the last of the public areas to this one, she'd even collected an escort. The attendant was polite and helpful, and Carvkae was very much aware that the matron was more than able to subdue her if necessary.

The rich preferred their security to be subtle.

"The Megara is just ahead, Maiden Miris," commented her escort.

Carvkae held back a frustrated sigh. She'd followed her omni-tool's tracking to make it to where she'd encountered Esasi, her overly polite companion. She could have made it just fine on her own if her 'tool had been permitted access to the terminal's layout.

That had not been an option.

"Thank you," she muttered.

"Pleased to be of service." She stopped in front of an unmarked bay. "This is your destination," she indicated the passage to the dock itself.

"That's it?" Carvkae expected to have been escorted to the airlock.

"I'll be here if you need me."

"Fine." She brushed past her companion. "I'll let you know if I get lost." _'You know, in a hallway with one door,'_ She thought sarcastically.

"Of course," she heard from behind her.

She focused on being annoyed. Annoyed was good. Annoyed kept her from wondering why she was going aboard Benezia's private craft to meet the _princeps_ of Liara's dead bondmate.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

The airlock was… locked. The teal T'Soni seal the only indication she was in the right place.

She waved her omni-tool over the access panel. Her clearance level had gotten her this far, after all.

"One moment please." The intercom nearly scared her out of her boots. The hatch opened before the voice finished speaking, and Carvkae stepped into the airlock. The outer hatch shut smoothly behind her. Once the outer hatch locked into place, the inner hatch slid aside to reveal a young commando Carvkae didn't know.

"Denai?" She asked hesitantly when the commando didn't identify herself.

The other asari snorted. "Teseka." She motioned Carvkae out of the airlock. "Denai's one deck down. I'll take you to her."

Carvkae fell into step beside her. "I'm Carvkae."

"I know," came the bland reply.

Carvkae looked at her escort questioningly.

"I've seen you play."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

It only took a few moments for Teseka to lead Carvkae down one level and stop before an open hatch. "She's here."

A matron, Denai? Looked up from the ornate desk and waved her forward. "Come in." She turned to Teskea with "You know what to do." Teseka left with a nod.

Carvkae hesitated just inside the office. "Denai?"

"Yes, thanks for coming." She nodded towards a chair in front of her. "Please sit down."

Carvkae sat.

"Took you long enough to get here," commented Denai.

"I was in the infirmary," replied Carvkae indignantly, not liking this Denai at all. "Iadri made me deactivate my omni-tool. I only got your message this morning."

"Are you injured? You look fine to me."

Carvkae waved the question away. "What's the hurry? Why am I here?"

Denai put down the 'pad she was holding. "Liara."

Carvkae nearly jumped out of her seat. "She's here?"

"Soon," came the reply. "Hence the hurry."

"What's going on?" Carvkae tried the direct route again. If Liara was coming that meant everything would be all right.

Denai took a deep breath before looking down at the desk and rubbing the finish with a finger. "Liara has a lot to deal with right now. Perhaps too much, even for her. She needs help."

"What kind of help?"

"The kind of assistance only a friend can provide. That's you, I hope."

"I don't understand. You're not her friend? I heard you were Shep-"

Denai raised a finger. "Don't."

Carvkae stood, angrily. "Don't what? Who do you think you are? Why can't you help her?

Denai looked up impassively. "Because I am one of her problems."

Carvkae blinked incredulously. "You're on Benezia's ship, behind Benezia's desk, with at least one member of the House Guard taking your orders, and _you're one of her problems?_ "

"So it would seem." Denai stood and walked around the desk. "Liara attempted to release me from my oath. I refused. She ordered me to destroy this ship. Instead, I stole it. She insists that Benezia's acolytes and staff be released without ceremony. I brought them home." She sighed, and Carvkae suddenly realized that Denai's demeanor was driven by exhaustion. "Liara is not an overly emotional person, but she is not to be swayed by logic, not in this case." She shrugged. "I need someone who can reach her without limiting themselves to the rational." Now she smiled slightly. "Alaya's reports tell me that person is you."

Carvkae was on the verge of panic. "Reach her how? For what? She's my friend, but I needed her a lot more than she ever needed me."

"That was before," replied Denai placidly. "She's lost a great deal since the death of her mother. She's had to be strong. She'd had to be focused." She paused to give her words a moment to sink in. "But sometimes that isn't enough."

"So you stole her mother's ship?"

"Yes," agreed Denai. "To bring her home. To force her to deal with this. To deal with herself." She waved a hand, taking in the entirety of the ship. "The ship is irrelevant. It's just a symbol. She has no use for it." She sighed. "The obligations of the House work both ways. She supports her House, her House supports her. But now, now she refuses to accept that support. She'd tied herself to one person, and losing that person almost killed her."

"You mean when S-"

Denai just glared.

"When her bondmate died," she corrected.

"When Liara's bond was severed, yes," replied Denai.

Carvkae still couldn't imagine Liara being bonded. "I don't know what you believe, but Liara and I weren't as close as you seem to think. She isn't going to do anything I tell her to." She snorted. "Believe me, I've tried."

Denai closed her eyes briefly. "This isn't about what to _do_ , it's about who she _is_. She needs help to remember that. Your help, I hope. She isn't going to listen to Alaya, or Iryra or Stallura or Nagalia. She probably won't even listen to Sha'ira in her current state. While she might have listened to me once, our relationship has grown _more complicated_ of late." She looked at Carvkae imploringly. "You, she won't associate with the House she felt abandoned her for so many years." She spread her hands. "It has to be you. There isn't anyone else."

Carvkae shook her head. "I'd do anything for Liara, but this, this I don't understand."

"Just be yourself. Help her remember who she is."

" _How?_ "

"You'll figure it out. You have to." Her eyes flickered to the open hatch. "She's here."

Liara stepped into the office, face twisted in a grimace. "Denai."

"Peeress."

"Goddess, Liara," whispered Carvkae as she rose to stand by Denai. "What's _happened_ to you?"

* * *

 **A/N:**

Assumptions here include:

FemShep/Liara  
Post ME2 beginning / Post Redemption comic / Pre Shepard resurrection

Sarah Shepard is:  
Colonist / Vanguard / War Hero

As always, thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome and desired  
joking611


End file.
